Demon City
by birobird93
Summary: Bella has just witnessed an horrific mob incident, serving as a witness against one of the biggest mob bosses in the city. Edward Cullen is the detective undercover, responsible for keeping the woman he is falling for alive, after a hit is put on her.
1. Welcome to the underworld

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight!**

**Enjoy!...**

"Ow! Watch where you're going, jerk!" I screeched.

Some retard stepped on my foot with their big honking shoes. He turned around, seeming surprised.

"Oh, sorry." He muttered, flatly, ignoring me. I clenched my teeth together to keep from verbally bashing him.

My therapist would call this "unhealthy behaviour" I rolled my eyes at the hyperbole.

Instead of stalking up behind him to give him a wedgie or something, I turned on my heel and stormed in the other direction. New York City subways were not only convenient, they were also dirty and crowded—and for some reason I didn't want to know, it _always_ smelled like pee.

The only reason I used the subway was because my office was all the way downtown, and my apartment was at the opposite side of the city. Cab fares were too expensive, and I would need to catch it twice a day. The subway was my only choice, as I didn't drive anymore. Who would want to in the gridlock traffic?

That was another plus to travelling on the Subway—it was quick. But then you had days when people would stand on you, trample over you, push you out of the way—just because I wasn't a big person, they felt they could nudge me off to the side. Like the guy who just stood on my foot.

He was tall, really tall, and he wore a grey jacket with jeans—his hair was a peculiar shade of bronze.

But, his most prominent feature was his eyes. Beautiful and deadly with their golden tone. But that's exactly why I hated him even more, he was good looking, and he seemed to know it—heck he was smug about it. That just made him look like he had his head even further up his own ass.

I took a deep breath, pulled my long coat around my body and sat down next to a young man wearing a suit. Grand Central Station was a mecca for regular commuters. The shiny, polished floors and gold ticket booths made it look pretty classy. But the trains themselves—blech.

My Dad—Charlie—had reminded me before I moved here, never to touch the subway poles or the hand railings, they were teaming with bacteria. I rolled my eyes at him then, but as I stared at the people I would be riding with, I dug out my woollen gloves and pulled them on. An old red headed woman with five kids sat down next to me. I inched away...not liking the possibility of being puked on by one of her trolls.

I averted my attention, trying not to stare at them with a disgusted expression painted on my face. My eyes landed on a small group of three men.

They were all relatively young, and they were all wearing suits and sunglasses. Men in Black much? I couldn't help but stare. The shortest one, the one that was closest to me started muttering in a foreign language. " Temos que fazer a batida esta noite!" He hissed to his friends.

"O que aconteceu com a troca de Jacob?" the other one asked in a voice that suggested he was trying for reason. The name caught me off guard. Jacob? As in, my boss, Jacob? No, of course not. I told myself. There were bound to be tonnes of people with that name around here. I shouldn't be worried. One started whispering in English.

I found myself leaning closer to hear what they were saying. "Listen," he began, his voice thick with a Portuguese accent.

"Mr. Black said we do it tonight, the exchange cannot go forward until after we have done our job." My eyes popped out of their sockets. My boss, Jacob Black, couldn't be involved in mob business, could he?

I quickly looked away when they broke apart, fanning out in other directions.

What could they mean by 'job'? And, if they were talking about the Jacob Black I knew—and worked for—what could he possibly have to do with it? I mulled silently over this as I lined up to cram into the subway cart. There weren't as many people this trip, a lot better than this morning.

I was grateful for that. This time I actually got a seat. Jacob must be working with an international affairs case. I worked as an intern at his Law firm in Manhattan. I had known Jacob for a year now, he was a wonderful boss, always accommodating to me and my co-workers.

I couldn't fathom another side of him, one that wasn't so squeaky clean. I realised I was at my stop.

I needed to walk from here to Lancaster road where I lived in Ridgefield. By then, the subway was pretty much deserted—except for that guy in the suit that I had sat next to, and the one that had stood on my foot. I scowled at the tiled walls of the underground subway as I stepped out, after seeing he was too. I held grudges, I couldn't help it.

I accidentally tripped over my own feet as I started up the staircase. Someone grabbed me before I could kiss the concrete. "Oh," I exhaled loudly. "Thanks," I turned to see the suited man behind me. I smiled apologetically. "I'm Mike." He introduced himself. I nodded, holding out a hand for him to shake. "I'm Bella, Mike." I smiled.

"Sorry about that." He shrugged. "Forget about it. I always like to help a beautiful woman." I blushed, flattered. He was quite cute with his baby face, blonde spiky hair and blue eyes. He smiled shyly once more then took off in a hurry up the stairs before me. I blinked then started up them again, being careful with my footing this time.

He wasn't there to catch me. I ground my teeth together when that ass stalked past me as I stepped out into the crisp night.

I sighed and muttered curses at him, turning down the street that led onto mine. I had travelled on foot down this street every night for the past year, coming home from an eight hour day at work. And I had always felt fine, safe, capable. But now, there was an uneasiness settling around me.

I stuffed my left hand in my pocket, clutching onto the strap of my handbag. I walked briskly, the cold air stinging my cheeks.

My hair blew against my face, temporarily blinding me. I pulled my glove off and brushed my hand across my forehead, my hair was falling out of it's bun.

I was quickly and quietly making my way under the generic, flickering street lights when I heard a scream. My eyes bugged open and I jumped, my eyes searching around me for danger. I listened intently, whilst simultaneously searching my bag for my cell phone. The gutters were clogged with leaves, brackish water flooding the sidewalk.

I gingerly stepped over it, hoping I wouldn't slip. I held my cell phone, ready to dial 911 if need be. I hesitantly leaned around the corner of the closest ally way.

Another scream erupted from down the farthest end. I cupped my hand to my mouth. The men—the Portuguese men—were crowded around Mike, the one who had introduced himself to me just moments ago. Their offensive stance around his lone figure made my stomach flip. What were they doing? "Please!" Mike begged.

"Jacob wants his money? I can get it to you, easily. You don't have to do this!" he cried, grasping at straws obviously.

I gawked, my heart hammering noisily in my chest. I hid in the shadows, afraid of being found, but terrified of moving and calling attention to myself. So, I stayed frozen, my feet glued to the pavement beneath me. "We don't take orders from lower employees." One sneered, the one that spoke English in the subway tunnel.

He produced a handgun from a holster inside his jacket. My body was trembling, horrified at what I was witnessing.

He aimed the barrel at Mike's head. I cringed, gasping. The gun fired, a sickening splatter of liquid landed on the ground. They just killed him, just like that. As if he were nothing more than an animal. I fought back the bile rising in my throat. There was nothing but silence then.

I glanced back there, tears in my eyes. I took a step backwards, my shaky hand unable to keep hold of my cell phone.

It dropped with a loud clatter to the wet concrete. I caught a glimpse of one of the mobsters' head flicking around in my direction.

I quickly bent to retrieve it. "Shit! We have company!" he hissed. I gasped, trying to find the strength to move my frozen limbs.

I spun on my heel, pounding down the dimly lit street, scared and upset. I didn't dare look behind me, afraid that I would find one of them just on my heels. I heard shots fired behind me, they hit windows around me, shattering. One hit a car—setting the alarm off. I made the corner, almost falling over.

I ran until I couldn't hear them anymore. I remembered with horrified certainty that my phone was still back there. I gulped, my lungs aching from exhaustion. I had my keys ready, fiddling with the lock on the gate out front. My shaking hands kept dropping them on the ground. "Come on!" I whispered, my voice shaky and broken.

"Come on!" I repeated, my whole body reacting to the adrenaline. I heard footsteps behind me, they were getting closer.

I just about collapsed in surrender. They started running towards me. I sucked in a breath, readying my scream.

They grabbed me around the waist, hoisting me forward with them. "Let go of me!" I screeched.

"I've already called the police!" "Shh!" the hissed, pulling me roughly, their hand moving to just above my elbow.

The deranged stranger spun me around the corner of my building, down the alley beside it, pushing me up against the side of the building, my head cracking against the hard brick wall. My heart pounded in my ears, icy splinters of fear lodged themselves in my stomach.

"Get away from me!" I hissed, struggling against their hold. "Do you want to die?" he hissed back venomously.

I shut my mouth, resigning myself to the fact I wasn't going to live through the night. This man would be responsible. I hoped they fry him. May as well at least try to get someone's attention. "Help!" I cried out. His hand clapped over my mouth.

"What are you fucking crazy?" he growled in his lowest tone. He leaned his face into the moonlight and thats when I saw who it was. Tears sprouted in my eyes. "Please!" I begged, just like Mike had. "Please let me go!" I pleaded in a weak whisper. His eyes softened infinitesimally.

"Just keep quiet, okay?" He warned under his breath, taking his hand away from my mouth.

His bronze hair lit up dramatically in the moonlight, shimmering hypnotically. He was leaning his head around the corner of the brick building, his hand still on my arm. "You're lucky you got away." He said suddenly. "What?" I squeaked. Without a word, he reached into his jacket.

I flinched, cringing against the wall. Instead of the gun I was expecting, he pulled out a police badge. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you." He whispered, letting go of my arm fully.

"I'm Detective Cullen of the NYPD, working undercover. And you, you just witnessed something." I nodded, unable to tell him the words, relive the horror of watching someone get executed. I was shivering in my coat, not from the cold, only from the fear. "They killed him." I finally choked out.

The bushy plants behind us rustled in the breeze. He stared down at me and sighed sadly.

"I should have stopped it...I didn't get there in time." I gulped, at least he didn't have to watch it.

"Why did you grab me?" I asked, my voice still high and shaky. "They were coming this way, I had to make sure you were okay." He explained, a little breathless.

To my instant horror, I heard footsteps again from the road. He put a finger to his lips, silently telling me to shut up.

I kept my mouth closed, afraid of making even the smallest of noises. I heard voices then, muted but still recognisable as the men from the alley.

They stalked past my building, still walking down the street. Neither of us said anything until their noises became silent. My chest was rising and falling rapidly with each strangled breath. My head throbbed painfully, my vision going blurry. "This isn't happening." I tried to reason with myself.

"Who _are_ they?" I demanded. Detective Cullen glanced back at me, stepping closer, out of the moonlight.

"They work for Jacob Black, a crooked Lawyer from Manhattan. A mob boss by trade. Usually people who get caught up in a mess like you just did, don't live more than a few seconds."

Jacob? Jacob Black, the lawyer, my boss, my co-worker, my friend?

It was all getting too much. There was too much information to process and too quickly. My boss was a dirty mob boss/possible drug dealer or something and I had almost become one of his mob's victims. My shaking came to a stop, my eyes rolled back in my head.

"Ma'am?" the detective asked, worriedly. I could no longer see anything but blackness, his melodic voice ringing in my ears.

**Hope you like it :) Tell me if it's worthy of more chapters. R&R and I will love you forever!**

**Reviews are better than filthy troll children. ;)**


	2. Friends with Benefits

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight! Unfortunately. Coz, if I did, I wouldn't be here. I'd be in my mansion, with Robert Pattinson tied to my bed.**

**A girl can dream...**

I woke to my apartment.

Wait—what? How did I get in here? I sat up, I was on my couch, fully clothed, the sun beating through the curtain-less windows.

"What the?" I glanced around, startled. My apartment was warm and smelled homey. It was comforting—especially after... I shuddered, trying to comprehend whether or not what happened was reality or if I had dreamed it all up while I slept on my couch.

But if it was a dream—a vivid one at that—then I should remember how I got home last night.

And I didn't. I stood up, the blanket that was covering me fell to the floor. I kicked it out of my way, shrugging off my jacket and throwing it over the back of the sofa.

"Where did I put it?" I asked myself, searching around me for my hand bag. I lifted up the sofa cushions, coming up empty.

I huffed, stomping out into the kitchen. I let out a little yelp when my eyes landed on a dark figure sitting at the counter.

Detective Cullen. He jumped out of his seat. I put my hand over my chest, shocked, my heart jumping around in my chest. "For Christ's sake!" I breathed. "I'm sorry, I—I didn't mean to scare you. I thought I should stay here until you woke up. You passed out." I frowned at him and narrowed my eyes.

"Yeah, 'cause you hit my head against the wall." I said acidly, then regretting it. I sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. That was rude. You were only helping me."I shook my head.

"So, all of that really happened then?" I asked warily, knowing what he would say next. "Yes, I'm afraid. I called it in. There were some squad cars there within minutes." He hung his head when he added, "He didn't suffer. It was very quick." I let out an exasperated sigh.

"You don't think he suffered? Even in the mere seconds before that bullet shot through his skull? He would have been terrified, and those seconds would have felt like hours. So _don't tell me that he didn't suffer!"_ I shouted. He watched me while I fumed silently.

My face was flushed, I could feel the blood boil under my skin, colouring my cheeks pink.

"Argh! I need a shower," I quickly decided, spinning back out to the hallway. The hot water cleared my head a little, chased away the disgusting feeling I had all over me—like a plague. I wanted to forget what I saw, completely wipe it from my memory. I wrapped myself up in a big white towel, only just realising I needed to streak to my bedroom to get dressed.

Could this week get any worse? I sighed, pulling the towel up tighter under my arms and trudged through the open door, across the hallway and into my room—no-one the wiser.

The image of Mike on his knees, his head bent forward, the trigger being pulled—I winced, shaking my head as if it would help clear out the images I wanted gone from my mind.

I pulled on a blue blouse and some jeans. I sauntered out to the kitchen, Detective Cullen was reading the newspaper. I sighed, clearing my throat to make my presence known.

He looked up at me, cautiously gauging my expression. I felt guilty for snapping at him.

He _did_ help me, when I was being chased by mobsters. I went from boring Law intern to being hunted down by a murderous gang that could quite easily be run by the owner of the Law firm I work in. I bit my lip—how much could my mind handle? I took a deep breath, getting down to business, so to speak. I leaned over the counter. "Jacob Black is my boss. I work as an intern for him at the Law firm." I stated slowly. He raised his eyebrows.

"That could be problematic..." he murmured, his brow furrowing in concentration.

"Maybe you should call in sick today," he suggested, grimacing. It was my turn to frown.

"No way. I need the money, plus won't he be more suspicious if I _don't_ show up at work?" I hedged. He pondered this for a moment before he got his cell phone out of his pocket. "Here," he said, handing me the phone. "What for? I have my own—" then I remembered I didn't. Crap.

"It's got my other cell's number in it. I keep this phone for emergencies. You can reach me anytime, if you need to talk, or if you're in trouble." He stressed. I nodded, taking the phone and stuffing it into my purse that ended up to be on the floor by the fridge.

Weird. I was always losing things, misplacing things, I was always falling over things I had put in the middle of the floor, but then again, I was also always falling over. "I just...I can't believe...Jacob! I mean, I've known him for a year, the whole time I've lived in the city, and he's—he's a mob boss?" I put my hand to my head.

"And he has people killed." I didn't realise I was crying. I quickly wiped the tears away...I didn't want anyone to see me cry.

"Why was Mike killed?" I asked. He frowned, concerned. "All we know is that there is a big drug and crime synagogue, we don't know where it is, we don't know when they meet. I presume that Mike was killed because he hadn't payed Jacob for the drugs or weapons he supplied." I gulped. "He swore an oath, to uphold justice. He is supposed to be putting people like that in _jail!_ Not becoming one." I rubbed my temples. "What are you going to do, now?" I asked him.

He threw the paper down, rubbing his hands together. "My crew is expecting me down in Harlem." I frowned. "Your crew?" "Thats what they call gangs or mobs," he shook his head. "I have to be down there in an hour for an assembly. We need to talk about some new merchandise." He heaved a deep sigh.

"Is it hard?" I asked, probably being too prying.

"To be around them, knowing what they've done?" I wondered. He looked down at his folded hands.

"I can't stand it sometimes. I feel like I'm a murderer just by associating with them." He sighed.

"But, it's my job. And, whatever helps bring down this bastard, I have to give it a try." "You mean Jacob?" He nodded and shrugged. "He is the boss. He runs everything, gives all the orders, takes all the shots, all the money ends up in his pockets." I stood up straight then, and grabbed my bag.

"Thank you, uh...What's your name?" I asked, embarrassed that I didn't know it yet. "Edward." He answered, I nodded, smiling slightly.

"Well, you're welcome to use my shower, uh..." I glanced around. "And to eat whatever you want," I offered. "I guess I'll be off." He stood up then.

"Wait...uh, I'll be expecting a call from you at midday, if I don't get one, I'm going there myself." I couldn't help the blush that spread across my cheeks. I nodded again. "Oh, and, uh, one more thing." I raised my eyebrows, grabbing my house keys from the hook by the door and dropping them in my handbag, too. "Sorry about your foot." I actually laughed.

I stepped out, closing the door behind me.

***

I missed the first train to Manhattan. I was going to be late to work. At my crooked boss's law firm. Crap. My first feelings were anxiety.

If I was going to be late, Jacob would know. I was practically his P.A. He would definitely notice.

He would want to talk to me about it. I don't know if I could ever look him in the eye again. I held my breath as I got in the elevator, dreading the approaching day. This was going to be a tough one. I also had to remember to call Edwa—Detective Cullen, I corrected my thoughts.

We were not on a first name basis. This was strictly fucked up, business. I took a deep breath as I stepped out onto my floor, the fifth floor. I bit my tongue, plastering a smile across my face whilst sweating bullets. I strolled awkwardly past Tyler's office.

Tyler had always been very forward with me—trying to ask me out on dates, I always said I was busy.

I smiled weakly at Alice, the receptionist. She smiled back as she spoke to someone over the phone.

The sound of computers buzzing, printers, the photo copy machine and phones ringing off the hook were the usual ambiance around the office. But today, everything just made me jumpy. I was so on edge, like fucking squirrel on caffeine. I even twitched—just to top off the crazy cat lady look. I cautiously pushed open Mr. Black's office door.

"Bella? Is that you?" I was so close to running back out and never coming back. But surely, that would raise questions right?

I needed to cement our trust, so I didn't get caught in the middle of all this business. Hey, maybe if I knew the boss, he would tell his guys to stay away.

Then again, he would also soon find out I was associating with a detective. The truth always came out, and when it did, I would be rowing with no paddles up shit creek. I gave him a crappy smile, my knees shaking. He frowned, stepping towards me. I had to work not to cringe or scream, knowing the kind of man he was.

"Are you okay? You look ill, Isabella." I shook my head, trying to up the brightness of my smile.

"I'm fine," my voice broke, I cleared my throat nervously. "Really, uh, do you need me to file that paperwork on the Mason case?" I asked, averting my gaze from his eyes.

He sighed. "Um, yes, thank you. But if you're too sick..." I shook my head. "No," I squeaked, my voice shaky.

"I'm alright, Jacob. I really am. I'll just get this done for you." I said, shuffling over to his vast mahogany desk and grabbing at the folders stacked next to his computer. I started moving to my office next to his, his hand grasped my arm, just above my elbow. "Wait, Bella." He started, considering.

My brow furrowed. "I have a charity benefit tomorrow night, suppose you could be my date? I need my P.A." He quickly added before I got the wrong idea...mostly. My heart was hammering in my ears. What do I say? Yes? But he was a bad man. Bad, but he seemed so nice. How could I say no?

He would ask what I had planned; I didn't have any ideas for an excuse. Those were always wasted on Tyler...or Eric—the other office horn dog who had tried his advances on me already. I bit my lip.

Detective Cullen may need my help. If people like Mike were being killed out of cold blood because of this man I stood before, I could do something to stop it, perhaps find the evidence the cops needed to put him away. Yeah, I would probably be out of a job, and his company would go bust, but lives were at stake. I sighed, playing a very dangerous game.

I was now the knight on the chess board. "Yeah, sure. When and where?" I asked as casually as I could. He smiled triumphantly. I suppressed the urge to flinch under his penetrating gaze. His dark skin was a stark contrast against my pale pallor. He dropped his hand, shoving them in the pockets of his black slacks.

He wore a crisp white shirt with a red tie, his sleeves slightly pushed up—no jacket. "It's at the Millennium Broadway Hotel. I'll pick you up from your apartment at six," he said, smiling. I nodded, smiling.

"Okay, oh, and, um," I furrowed my eyebrow. "What do I wear?" I asked warily. He chuckled.

"Something semi-formal...you know..." he trailed off. "But it wouldn't matter, you look great in anything." He smiled, his eyes raking up and down my body.

I would have blushed, but I was nothing but uneasy in that moment. "Th-thank you." I stuttered, tightening my grip on the paper work. I spun on my heel and high-tailed it to my desk. I practically collapsed into my spinning chair, exhausted from all this anxiety.

How was I going to make it through an entire night at his side?

I gritted my teeth, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths through my nose. I could do this, I was not weak. I would not settle for getting someone else to solve my problems. I can take care of myself; I had done so for years now. I opened my eyes and stared determinedly at the fat stack of paperwork ahead of me.

I could do this. I prepared more folders, entering some data into my computer, labelling the folders and taking them to the filing cabinet—a swanky thing with shiny locks. I had the only other key, beside's Jacob himself. I frowned to myself, considering rifling through his memo's...but then thought better of it.

He wouldn't have secret mob information where just anyone could access it.

Especially someone he worked with. He would keep it in his own desk, which also, incidentally had a lock, one which I had not procured a key for. I sighed, really thinking hard about whether or not I should get prescribed some Xanex for the stress problems I was going to develop with all this crap going on around me. I needed calm...and I wasn't getting it here. I caught a glimpse of the clock on my computer screen. It read 12:34 p.m.

"Fuck!" I hissed. I was due to call Detective Cullen. I searched through my bag, finding the cell phone and running off, calling behind me, "I'll be on my break!" to Jacob.

Instead of heading to the cafeteria downstairs, I darted down the hall, past the board room to the toilets. I searched through the phone book, finding something that said _Work mob, #1. _I assumed that must be it. I pressed the call button, holding it up to my ear and hiding in a cubicle.

"Hello, Bella?" he answered after the first ring.

"Do you need me?" I almost slapped myself when I thought about saying yes.

What the fuck for? So, you're a little scared, grow up. But a small part in the back of my head warned me, that that wasn't my only motive. "No, everything's fine. I'm fine. You just told me to call you at midday." He breathed a sigh of relief, he almost sounded puffed.

"Are you...okay?" I asked. There was silence and I thought I could hear running. "What's going on? Is this a bad time?" I bit my lip, what if he was in a chase?

What if he was _being _chased? What if they found out he was a cop? And my call was only slowing him down? Was he going to die because of me?

My heart thumped erratically, waiting impatintly for his response. "Yeah, I'm fine." He breathed. "I just noticed someone shady sitting outside your apartment building." My eye bugged out. "My apartment? Do you think they know where I live? I thought you were supposed to be at that assembly, meeting thing. Why are you there?" The questions spurted out of my mouth before I could stop them.

"It's already finished. We spoke nothing important, just regulation drug trafficking. And, no, I just think he was a teenager, looking for trouble. No big deal." I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Wait. If you know they're drug trafficking, how come you can't come and arrest..._Black_ now?" I asked, confused.

"Because I need to be able to link all the mob activity to him. If I just start arresting his gangs, without enough evidence that he's behind it all, he'll walk free and start new gangs. I know he is behind it, there have been witnesses in the past, but...They never made it to trial, or even questioning."

"Oh," was all I said. "I came back here to scope out the place, make sure there was no-one waiting for you when you got home." He explained.

And I couldn't help the warm sensation in my chest. But I quickly beat that shit back. I needed to worry about my survival at this point, not yummy looking detectives. I shook my head, getting back to the subject. "Um, yeah, there's something you should know." I began. "What is it?" he asked, his voice was sped up, anxious.

"It's nothing bad. In fact, it might actually help you. _I _might be able to help you." His voice sounded cautious then, slowly, reluctantly, he said.

"How?" I licked my lips. "Jacob asked me to go with him to a charity benefit tomorrow night. They say it's for a cancer charity, but something about it just sounds screwy. I mean, I'm pretty much bad-mouthing what I may become one day, but, lawyers don't just give money to other people. That just goes against everything they've learned. Half these people represent burglars or murderers. Asking a lawyer to donate to a good cause is like asking a nun for a bang, it just doesn't fucking happen. Maybe this benefit has something to do with the mob. And, if not, I might be able to get closer to Jacob, learn more about him."

For some reason, I felt myself growing desperate for the detective's approval, which was weird.

I never really sought approval, I hated attention, and I only lived for myself. So why did I want him to like me? He was silent as he thought about this.

"Listen, I'm sorry you got dragged into this. You can remain an anonymous witness. You don't have to come to the station for questioning. But being alone with Jacob Black? Are you insane? No!" I frowned, nobody told me what to do.

"Hey, it's too late anyway. What was I supposed to say?" I hissed into the receiver. "He asked me straight out. Do you want to put him away or not? He doesn't even know my knowledge goes beyond stacks of paper work, he won't know. And he likes me, how would I be in any danger?" I hedged.

"Fine," he snapped. I grinned, but it was an empty victory.

I was doing it for him in the first place, then when he said no, I had to argue and fight to be able to do it.

I needed to talk about self sabotage with my therapist on Thursday.

"But, you keep that phone on you at all times. Are we understood? I'll be around at your house tomorrow evening...before I go too." "Huh?" I was confused.

"You're going?" I asked. "Yes. I have to, I'm part of the mob...remember? But I'll be incognito. And this is mostly just in case you fuck up." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not as incapable as you may think." I snapped. I heard him sigh. "Tomorrow, okay?" I shook my head.

"Fine." I sighed, hanging up. I couldn't help the guilt that swelled in my stomach. Why the fuck was I feeling guilty? He was the one who was being a jerk? And, most importantly of all, why did I give a fuck? This was about Jacob and his possible mob leadership. I pocketed the cell phone and walked out of the bathroom, running face first into Tyler.

"Trouble with the boyfriend?" he smirked. I frowned, confused. "What?" He smirked wider. "I heard your fighting. Pretty heated." He winked. I rolled my eyes, pushing past him.

His hand whipped forward, slapping me on the ass. I grit my teeth and kept walking. "Mother fucking sleaze," I muttered, stalking back to my office. I set back to work, my stomach grumbling. I needed food, but I had apparently just used up my whole lunch break on fighting over the phone about mobsters with a man I barely knew.

No caffeine, no food, a mob boss in the next room, a stuck-up-his-ass undercover cop slinking around my house...What a fucking fantastic week.

**Tell me what you thinky :) Next chapter is Bella and Jacob at the benefit...getting up to some sleazy antics...guess who's not so happy about it. ;)**

**R&R**


	3. Call me Edward BPOV EPOV

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight!**

**Have fun!**

I was never the girly type, really.

I mean, I looked feminine enough, but I never went all-out. This was going all out.

I stared at my reflection, gobsmacked. I had _boobs!_ My hair was in thick curls, waving past my shoulders, just down to my waist. I wore a dark blue cocktail dress, strapless and fitted quite snugly to my figure before fanning out slightly at my torso. It was beautiful, designer, expensive.

And that's where the awkward, creepy factor came into it—Jacob had sent me this dress.

I had come home that afternoon, feeling even more nervous than the previous day, to find a white box at my apartment door. I carefully nudged it with my toe, just making sure it wasn't going to explode—yeah I was paranoid, I had seen the movies. This was the part where I blew up. But it didn't, now bomb, no ticking, just blue silk and chiffon.

I had stood speechless in my kitchen, just staring at it—it stared back with all of it's glory, just begging to be worn. And who would want to piss off a mob boss by not wearing his goddamn dress? Especially when it was this gorgeous. So, I did what Alice would have done. I _fucking wore the shit out of that dress._

It slipped on nicely, exactly my size, which only escalated the creep factor.

What did he have someone ransack my closet? I had better check no-one was staring at me from inside there. I sighed at my mirror, rolling my eyes and then trotting over to my pile of shoes, picking out some black heels. Hmm, heels? Was I co-ordinated enough?

I hoped so. Because it was either them or my converse all stars.

Not a good image, I would assume, especially when I was supposed to be hanging off the arm of Mr. Black. I heard a knock at my door, and immediately yelped. "Bella?" Edward called from the hallway, outside my bedroom door.

"Jesus, Detective. You just scared me, I'm not being garrotted or anything." He was closer to the door now, his voice slightly muffled.

"Not funny." He muttered. I could hear his retreating footsteps.

I rolled my eyes, not knowing why he was so paranoid, surely he was used to it by now?

He always seemed anxious. I stood up from the foot of my bed and opened the door. "Ta-dah!" I breathed, revealing my outfit to him. He turned and I gaped. "Wow," he murmured. _Yeah, wow._ My head said, as I was incoherent at the present time, staring at his god-like form.

He looked so out of place in my apartment. I scanned him up and down unabashedly. He was in a full tux, white shirt, black jacket and pants, black tie. I wanted to gobble him up. He cleared his throat, appearing to be a but uncomfortable. I was full-on groping him with my eyes.

I blushed, ducking my head. "You look...um, really good." His words were fast, awkward. I smiled, unable to help myself. I raged in my head. For goodness sake, he was only here to do his job. Leave him alone. I closed my bedroom door, he backed up a few steps to give me room.

"Okay," he breathed, trying to collect his thoughts. He must be as nervous as I was. Where are those meds when you need 'em?

I was stressed to the max. I needed something to soothe me, like alcohol. But I couldn't get plastered. This was important and I needed to be articulate and polite if it was going to go smoothly. Me stumbling and puking all over Jacob might raise a few eyebrows, or Tommy Guns. I shuddered. He reached into his jacket pocket.

"Here," he passed me what looked like an ear plug. I held it up to my eye for closer inspection.

"What is it?" "It's a hearing device," he pulled out something else, a small black thing that looked like a spider. "This is a microphone," he dropped it in my palm. "And, this is a camera." He held up a tiny brooch, it was a silver apple. "Huh," I hummed, in awe.

"These are cool." I murmured. He chuckled. "Yes, well. This is so we can keep in communication during the night." He reached his hands over to mine, picking up the microphone thing and hesitantly holding it between his fingertips.

"Erm, may I?" he asked. I shrugged.

"Sure," I said dismissively, somehow I knew I would say that to anything he suggested. He carefully placed the microphone in my cleavage, pinning it to the fabric of my dress so it was out of sight. I raised my eyebrows, nodding. He took the camera out of my palm while I stuck in the ear plug.

He gently pinned it to my dress, just above my right breast. Averting his gaze, he glanced at the clock.

"Oh, is that the time?" He muttered.

"Um, I'll be in the car behind you. Stay in touch, don't lose these." He pointed to my ear. I nodded, taking a deep and shaky breath. He eyed me speculatively.

"Listen, if you listen to what I say, everything will be fine. If not, I'll be there fast enough not to let anything happen to you, okay?" I couldn't help the small, bashful smile play across my lips. I nodded again. "Okay." I agreed. "Is he here yet?" On cue I heard a car honk. I frowned.

"That's kind of rude." I commented, grabbing my clutch purse and dropping my keys inside.

"Detective," I nodded, making my way out the door. "Maybe...you shouldn't call me detective." He suggested. I gave him a wondering look before he quickly added. "Just in case someone hears." "Oh," my eyes popped out of my head. "Right. Okay, Edward." I didn't even want to admit to myself how nice it was to say his name. He smiled encouragingly as I closed the door, knowing he'll be right behind us.

I stepped out onto the pavement outside the gate surrounding my building. A stretch limo was there waiting for me—sleek, shiny, black. Behind it was a silver Volvo—Edward's ride. I smiled knowingly before knocking on the tinted glass.

"Bella, how nice of you to grant us with your company." He smiled seductively from inside the spacious cabin. He opened the door for me and scooted aside, leaving me room. I cleared my throat, the anxiety setting in again. I never felt like this around Edward, of course Edward was a cop.

That kind of made sense. Duh. I smiled sheepishly up at him. He held out a champagne glass. Yes!

"Here," he poured me some sparkly wine.

"Thank you," I smiled timidly, still unsure of how to act casual in this situation. This fucked up situation. I started by taking a deep breath. "You look, magnificent, Isabella." He complimented. I smiled and blushed. "Why, thank you, Mr. Black."

I grinned—feigning cheerfulness. "And so do you." I motioned to his clothes with my hand.

He was wearing a black tux, too. Except his was _all_ black. Ironic. Mr. Black all dressed in black.

He could have chosen white if he wanted to look like the innocent, good –willed Lawyer man. Obviously he wasn't going for inconspicuousness. He was going for intimidation. And, he was doing a good job at it. I sat back on the smooth leather seat as he watched from beside me.

"Looking forward to it?" he asked. I smiled, going for a yes. He smiled in return.

"What is the benefit for?" I asked innocently, taking a dainty little sip of my drink. His eyes flashed with a sinister humour. Then it vanished. I gulped. I had always known the Jacob that was sweet and caring—I had never before seen the evil side.

It scared the crap out of me. I shrank back against my seat.

"Bella, relax." Edward's voice sounded in my ear. My eyes shot to Jacob, hoping to god that only I could hear his voice. He looked normal, smile and all. The volume was fine then. "The benefit is going towards raising money for orphaned children." He explained.

"I'm a big softie at heart. Even though, people say I don't have one. I can be quite bad." He winked.

I bit back the urge to spit that I agreed with the people who say he doesn't have one. "Oh," he suddenly stated. "We're here." He opened his door and came around to my side.

"Sounds pretty screwy to me," Edward murmured. "Tell me about it." I muttered before the door opened. Jacob offered me his hand, I took it reluctantly, hoping he couldn't sense the disgust in doing so. His arm snaked around my waist and I had to work not to gag. Even his scent, it smelled of something sinister.

I yearned for... I snapped myself out of that reverie. I didn't _yearn_ for anyone...or his scent.

Because that was just weird. "Stay focussed." He murmured again. I nodded infinitesimally.

"I know you're uncomfortable. Believe me," his voice had an edge of annoyance, of disgust.

"But you have to pretend. After all, it's all just an act." He reassured me. I nonchalantly twisted my head around, catching his gaze from behind the crowd that had surrounded me and Jacob. He gave me a small wink. "Try not to look at me." I almost snorted. Jacob led me into the hotel, the lobby was grand with it's golden trimmings and marble floors.

I stared, astonished at the vast grandeur of the place. It was mesmerising. Jacob pulled me along beside him, pressing me to his side. Just a little uncomfortable...make that extremely. He finally let me go to shake someone's hand. A rather old man, his hair grey and his face plump. "Harry," he greeted, taking his hand.

"Isabella, this is Harry Clearwater. Harry, this is Isabella Swan." He introduced us. "Hello," I shook his hand, his grip was firm.

"Nice to meet you." He grinned. I nodded, smiling warmly back. Jacob's hand came behind me, placing itself on the small of my back. He turned to look at me. "It's a little overwhelming, isn't it?" he smiled down at me. I nodded back earnestly.

"Well, relax. Come on," he murmured, taking my hand and towing me through the crowd and into a secluded part of the hotel. I was getting officially freaked out now. "Here," he said, pulling out a chair to a table situated at the back of the ball room where hardly anyone could see.

"Are you alright?" Edward whispered through the hearing piece in my ear. I cleared my throat. "Yes." I answered him aloud. "Thank you." I said, he would have construed both words for him. He smiled, pulling his seat over so it was right next to mine. The night progressed monotonously. Wine, mingle, wine, mingle. It was so boring—no mob activity here.

My eyes scanned the room, searching for that group of men I had known to kill Mike. I felt Jacob's warm fingers trail up my thigh. I tensed, although I doubt he noticed.

His hand flattened over my leg, caressing my thigh now. I bit my lip. _Shit!_ I didn't have a hand book on this stuff. What do I do now?

"Seen anything?" Edward asked, his voice still interested and alert. I sighed quietly, leaning slightly forward so he could see Jacob's hand on my knee. "Oh," he grumbled. "I'll get you out. Cover the camera with your hand for a second if you want me to come in." I didn't. He waited silently for a few moments.

"Bella. You don't have to do what you're doing." He begged. I frowned. "Tired?" Jacob asked, his hand grazing up slightly further. My breathing hitched, not in a good way. He leaned in closer, whispering in my ear, the one without the microphone—thank god.

"I have a room upstairs." He whispered. I was frozen, waiting for my mind to come up with a response to the impossible request and waiting for Edward's reaction. Would he tell me to go with it? I needed information didn't I? Was this how I had to get it? I internally shuddered at the thought. Jacob didn't wait for a response like I was.

His face nuzzled into my neck, his lips kissing the skin under my ear.

Fuck.

EPOV

"What the fuck?" I uttered incredulously.

So much for being incognito. I was in the men's bathroom, watching the whole thing from the small monitor I held in my palm and listening through the ear piece.

Jacob Black had just offered for Bella to go up to his hotel room. "What the _fuck?_" I uttered again. What a scummy bastard.

"Don't do it, Bella." I told her. "Don't do it." I repeated desperately.

"Sure," she murmured reluctantly. I could have killed him.

"You don't need to prove anything!" I almost yelled into the microphone.

I watched his face light up and I felt like being sick. Lucky I was in the bathrooms.

I could almost properly handle all the furtive glances, the roaming eyes, the leering down her dress...but not this.

Was it because I was afraid I would lose another innocent to this mob? That Bella was just going to be defiled by that snake?

That was part of it, but not exactly.

I couldn't fathom the real reason behind my rage.

But it was white hot rage, piercing through my skull. "Argh!" I growled. "Bella, for fuck sake. Do not follow him!" I ordered, hoping she would oblige. But in the few days I knew her, I knew she was stubborn, naive...and innocent. And she was going to be used, fucked and thrown away.

I watched them saunter quietly into the elevator. He didn't waste any fucking time, either.

He leaned forward, kissing her. I could hear it, I could almost see it...I could almost feel the disgust radiating from Bella. I had to get her out of there. I had to do something...right? But, wait, this is what I wanted. To get information. Bella was infiltrating enemy lines, per say.

But that didn't stop the fury from bubbling inside my chest—it was powerful.

However, how else could someone get close enough to Jacob Black to get the info they wanted. He wouldn't just tell anyone, nor would he make his belongings freely accessible. I had already tried that avenue. I stood up, calculating my next move. I heard Bella sigh shakily, moaning softly.

I thought I might gag, the anger was choking me. I reluctantly took a glimpse of the monitor. They were strolling down a long hallway, deserted and alone.

"Bella," I murmured urgently. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I hissed. "I don't know!" she hissed back, her voice cracking with fear. However much I may have loathed the idea...I just had to sit...and wait. I gnashed my teeth together, pacing up and down the bathroom.

I stopped once to punch the wall...a hole resulted. They were in the hotel room then, turning the lights on.

I took a deep breath. He came closer to her then, his hands reaching for her shoulders, his head bent down to kiss up and down her neck. Why was I getting so angry? He had his filthy hands all over her. Filthy, unworthy, murderous hands—and she was letting him do it. I felt like punching the wall again out of frustration.

His hands slid up her arms, I couldn't see his face, but I could hear his breathing and his next words whispered into her ear. "I know it was you," I froze, stunned.

What? What did he mean by that? He pulled away from her then, his hand moving to her face and neck. His eyes had changed to the affectionate longing, to fierce anger. "Oh shit," I muttered. I thrust the door open on the bathroom, darting across the vast dining room and to the elevators.

Pressing the button frantically, I waited for it to light to go on. I jumped in, closing the doors. "What floor?" I whispered to myself.

"Seven," Bella weezed.

I pressed the button and listened. There was a scream. "Argh!" I covered my ear, that was loud. I held the monitor out, watching. He threw her down on the floor, wrenching on her dress, tearing at the fabric.

"Think you can get involved in mob business without any consequences?" he asked incredulously while he grasped her ankles, pulling her closer and parting her legs. The elevator door opened. I wasn't thinking. My mind had gone beyond rational thought. Beyond reason. I was putting my undercover identity on the line for her.

My whole operation, months of investigation all about to be flushed away. In that moment...I didn't care. Because I wasn't going to lose another one.

_Especially _not her. I heard through my ear piece what was happening, I couldn't waste time by stopping to watch.

I heard muffled whimpers, choking noises...a slap and a scream. All inaudible noises from the hallways. These rooms must be sound proof. My head was screaming questions at me. Wondering why I was acting so rash. But when human life is involved, innocent human life, acting rash was necessary.

And when it was Bella's life involved...well, I couldn't understand her exception...but this was _definitely _necessary.

"Help!" she gurgled, coughing and moaning, gasping for air. "Shut up! " he hissed. "You want to get involved in my business? I'll fucking get you involved." I registered the double meaning, my legs wrenching me forward to the end of the long corridor to their room.

I went for the door knob...of course it was locked! I hastily pulled a credit card out of my back pocket, sliding it through the crack in the door and jimmying the lock. I jerked it open, not wasting another minute. Jacob shot up onto his knees, no longer on top of Bella. He looked surprised...he hadn't expected on being caught.

Bella was on her back, her hands in front of her face, trembling. Her dress was torn from the bottom hem to her waist, her hair messy and tangled around her tear stained face. She had a pink hand mark across her cheek. I gritted my teeth, my hands clenching into fists, I glared vindictively, stomping forward in two determined strides.

He rolled onto his feet so he was standing. I was taller. I took him by the throat, hauling him backwards till his back thudded against the wall. It all happened within seconds.

"I will end you," I threatened, my voice low and gravelly. From the corner of my eye, I saw Bella crawl towards the door. I loosened my hand on his neck, his eyes afraid. Yeah, he may seem intimidating, but when it came down to the fact, he was just a coward. Choosing to prey on young women, beating them and raping them, just to feel superior...important...powerful. Not this time. His face relaxed then. I turned but quickly twisted back, my clenched fist connecting with his face.

I felt the fracturing of one of my knuckles. It hurt like hell. I shook my hand out, his body slumped to the floor, unconscious. I turned to see Bella standing at the door, her arms wrapped around her body. She looked so vulnerable. I strode over to her.

I put a hand on her shoulder, she looked up with teary eyes.

"Are you okay?" I asked stupidly. Of course she wasn't okay! She was just assaulted! She nodded anyway...a pure martyr.

I shrugged my suit jacket off, ushering her out the door and closing it behind me. I draped it over her shoulders to cover up her torn dress. I rolled my sleeves up, she raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to do that before a fight?" she teased. I rolled my eyes, only she would make a joke in this situation.

The elevator dinged, indicating someone was up here. I pulled Bella into my arms, spinning our bodies around so it looked like we were an intimate couple standing in front of our hotel room. Whoever it was chuckled to themselves before pressing the button to go back down, not wanting to interrupt. I grabbed Bella's hand, towing her towards the stairs.

We hurried down as fast as we could. I had to catch her from falling a couple of times but we eventually made it to the ground floor.

I pulled her along with me, slipping out the back exit and into the icy air of Times Square.

**:D Did you like it? I hope you did. Jealous Edward...mmm, there really is nothing better, is there? Hehe. :)**

**Just makes you want to melt...sigh. Um, huh? Wait, sorry...daydreaming..**

**Anyways..**

**Reviews are better than Edward in a tux...well, not really.. ;)**


	4. Just do it

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. :)**

**Hope you guys like it!**

The air grated painfully up and down my throat, my exhaustion was begging to show.

Edward practically had to carry me to his car. I glanced back up at the hotel, knowing I wouldn't see him, but dreading it if I did.

I shuddered and sat down in the passenger seat, breathing heavily, Edward ran to the other side, jumping in and starting the car simultaneously. I watched him closely as we pulled out of the parking lot, swerving around the traffic, almost clipping parked cars. I gripped onto the seat for balance.

"Put your seat belt on!" he snapped. I jumped but did as I was asked. It clicked into place. I wiped at my eyes, staring back at him. His hands were grasping the steering wheel, he glared at everything in sight, hissing curses under his breath. The bright lights of the city shimmered in through our windows, colouring our skin like disco balls. I watched the bright lights fade away, in their place I began to see the more dully lit suburbia. My apartment was coming up close. It was a relief to be home...I needed to sleep, desperately.

I chanced a peek at Edward again. He met my eyes this time with a glare, I quickly looked away.

The brakes screeched and I could smell burnt rubber as we came to a stop outside my building.

"Do you have _any _idea what you've just done?" he growled incredulously. I stared at him, eye wide, my face crumpled in an upset grimace. He didn't even give me a chance to answer. He answered for me.

"You have just gathered my whole five months of undercover work, no friends, no contact from family, people dying on my watch so I could catch this mother fucker and you go _and fuck the whole thing up!_" he shouted furiously. My stomach sank and my eyes fell to my lap. I cried.

Fuck this, I thought. I undid my seat belt and flung the door open, slamming it behind me before running up to my apartment.

I heard footsteps behind me but I didn't acknowledge them.

"Are you going to apologise for fucking me over? You put both my life and your own in danger. What the fuck were you trying to do?" he asked incredulously, his brow furrowed in frustration and anger.

His chest rose and fell rapidly, he was practically panting with all the insults he was dishing out. But, he was one hundred percent correct. I fucked everything up, for both of us. I should pay for it, too. I should also be put away.

"What should I have done? Give me an example!" I yelled back, slamming my front door closed in his face. He opened it and closed it behind him with less force, but you could tell it was an effort. "_Anything but what you did!"_ he exclaimed, majorly pissed. I gnashed my teeth together, my face flushing hot with anger. But then a realisation hit me.

"The camera! I got a confession out of him, didn't I?" Edward's face darkened impossibly more than before.

"I've got evidence, on tape!" "No," Edward spat. "We don't actually. Because when he was assaulting you, the camera came off your dress. The monitor? Well that broke when I was fucking running to save your _life!_" he bellowed, jabbing his finger at me. I stared at him, my jaw hanging open.

I could almost see a hint of regret in his eyes, like he felt bad. I glowered deep into his eyes. "You could have had him," I whispered.

"You could have called in backup. I would have been fine." I spoke in a low, even voice. I didn't give him enough time to come up with something to respond with.

So, instead I turned on my heel, tearing off his suit jacket and throwing it on the floor. I stalked into my bedroom and the door banged shit behind me. I collapsed onto the bed, freezing cold, muscles aching, tear streaked face and all. I cried and cried about what had happened.

The assault—near rape and murder that I had been the victim of. Being that close proximity to Jacob Black, enough to make me vomit with hatred. And, worst of all—which was pretty pathetic of me—was when Edward yelled at me.

Of course he had every right to do it. But the justice wasn't pleasant, I hated being yelled at, even if it was merited on my part. And I especially hated Edward yelling at me. I kicked off those damn heels, my feet would be bruised and blistered for the next week.

I squirmed out of my dress and crawled to the head of the bed, pushing the covers back before sliding down in between them. I sighed and tried to fall asleep.

I tossed and turned until sleep finally took me—I had nightmares.

***

I could hear a phone ringing. No it was just a single ring tone...like a message tone. My hand searched blindly across my bed for my purse.

I found the diamante covered bag, rifling through it's contents until my hands found purchase. Edward's cell phone. I rolled my eyes and growled incomprehensibly.

Not liking what I remembered of last night. My mind was groggy and my feet dragged along the floor as I slowly sauntered out into the light of day. Edward was fast asleep on my sofa, snoring softly. I paused, I felt rude. Would it be rude to wake him up? To touch him?

Touch that hair... I mentally slapped myself. I took a slow breath...I was in too deep.

I hesitantly reached my hand out to his shoulder. "Edward," I whispered.

He stirred, shifting his body to face me. "Edward," I said in a normal volume. "Edward!" I hissed, frustrated.

He wouldn't move. "Wake up!" I shouted. His eyes flew open, he sat up, his hand flying out towards my face.

Oh fuck. He back handed me across the cheek. I fell to the side, stumbling over onto the floor. "Argh! Jesus Christ!" I barked. "What the fuck did you do that for?" shrieked, getting awkwardly to my feet. I fumed, waiting for my head to explode like an underground volcano.

I threw his phone at him and marched out of the room, down the hall and back into my bedroom.

I didn't close the door, afraid that after all my slamming it would probably wear down the hinges and I wouldn't have a door at all. "Fuckin, fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck." I mumbled under my breath, throwing a towel over my shoulder and storming into my bathroom to take a shower.

I washed my hair, almost pulling it out by the handful I was so pissed.

As I stepped out onto the tiles, I wiped my hand over the mirror to check my profile. I hadn't properly looked at myself since last night. After a long sleep and a shower, the injuries were a lot more obvious...they hurt, too. I had a bruise on my cheek, that one was not from Edward.

It only hurt more, though, after he hit me...accidentally. Right over the top of the purple-ish blotch I had received from Jacob, was a freshly pink hand mark. I sighed dejectedly. This was going to take a lot of cover-up to obscure. I didn't even wear cover-up, I'm not sure I had any.

And it only made me more miserable to think that I even needed to cover up anything in the first place.

I got dressed in a pair of jeans and a green, long-sleeved t-shirt. I padded out to the kitchen, not sparing a glance in the living room.

But he was sitting at the kitchen counter anyway. I locked my jaw and ignored him, pulling the fridge open with a little too much force. I grabbed the bottle of OJ. It was foul...I checked the date. My face screwed up and I bent over the sink, spitting it out in an classy show.

"Ugh, fuck." I muttered, grabbing a glass and filling it with tap water.

"Bella," he began. "I'm so sorry." I shook my head, and like the push over I am, I let it slide. "Forget it," I murmured.

"No, I can't." He said seriously. I stared at the glass in my hands, swishing a gulp of water around in my mouth. I swallowed.

"Seriously," I said. "Forget it. It was an accident." I heard a chair scrape across the floor and footsteps come up behind me. "Look at me." I didn't turn I just stared at the water in my shaking hands. "_I'm _sorry." I said. I shook my head at my stupidity last night.

"I fucked everything up, for both of us. What are we going to do now? He knows I know about him, but other than that, we have no evidence." I shrugged feeling resigned and sad. Last night has apparently been a wasted effort. And boy, was it an effort.

"All your work...I ruined everything. What is it going to take to put him away? Do we have to wait until he kills one of us?" I heaved a deep shaky breath.

Because I truly believed that that was what we were down to by now. "Bella, look at me." He demanded. I bit my lip, putting my glass down and slowly turning around.

I stared down at his shoes before moving my eyes a mile up his tall body to meet his gaze. He stared intensely into my eyes, and neither of us said anything. His hands leaned themselves against the counter on either side of my body. He put his weight on one leg, placing the other slightly behind it.

His face leaned closer to mine and my breathing sped. Impending doom was nothing...being hunted by the mob was nothing... I inhaled his scent. Even without cologne on, he smelled magnificent.

I tried not to seem obvious about what I was doing. I tried to look casual, I knew it failed, my eyes trained on his, my body unconsciously moving closer to his. "It won't come down to that. I promise." He said sincerely, his breath brushing my face. My eyelids fluttered, breathing him in again.

"How do you know that?" I whispered, unsure of my voice. "I promise." He repeated. "I won't let it happen. I won't let him come near you. He'll have to get through me first." My eyes opened then narrowed. "Don't start with the self sacrifice bullshit." I muttered. "You have to make sure you take care of yourself too." I tried another approach, one I thought might make him see my point.

"And if they get through you? I know how to take care of myself, but...against Jacob? You'll be leaving me defenceless. And seeing as you haven't forced me to go down to the station, this whole situation hasn't been cleared with your bosses has it? So you can't ask them to do your job, can you?" I challenged.

He sighed. "I'll try to keep them away from _us_," he corrected. My heart fluttered at the sound of that word.

Us.

I liked it...more than I should. I almost jumped out of my skin when his hand moved up to my face, his fingertips barely brushing the skin over my cheekbone. He frowned, his eyes tightened.

"I'm sorry about that," he mumbled. "And for last night. I'm sorry you had to have that happen to you." He added. I just stared, not saying a word.

"It was my own fault, I..." I trailed off as his other hand moved to my face, pulling on a wayward strand of damp hair and tucking it behind my ear.

He looked like he was warring with himself. _Just do it. For god's sake, just do it!_ The voice in my head was coaxing him. Wanting.

But as he sighed, I knew that was it. His hands dropped to his sides and he stepped back, leaning against the opposite counter. I tried to keep disappointment from wrapping itself on my features, or from colouring my tone. Instead I took a breath, clearing my head with air that wasn't bathed in his scent and smiled. He smiled almost painfully.

It was probably painful being this close to me, especially because I could tell he knew I was attracted to him. He simply didn't reciprocate.

There was no use in feeling poignant about it. The small rejection hit my heart like a semi-trailer. I didn't want to admit how bad it felt. So I kept the smile plastered on my face, turning back to the fridge to find milk for cereal. The rest of the morning stayed silent between us. It wasn't awkward, per say, it was just...quiet...kind of tense.

Well, for me anyway. I plopped down on the couch, flicking the T.V on.

"What are we watching?" he asked curiously, poking his head round the corner. He came to sit next to me, spreading his arm across the back of the sofa.

"Um..." I surfed through the channels. "Simpsons?" He shrugged. "Sure." I frowned at him, leaning back to look at his face.

"Shouldn't you be doing some...I don't know, cop stuff?" He smirked. "Cop stuff?" he grinned. "Yeah," I nodded. "You _are_ a detective. Shouldn't you be out...detecting?" For lack of a better word. He cocked an eyebrow. "Actually, it's my day off. And I kind of have to keep low key after what happened yesterday." I blushed.

"Besides, don't you like my company?" he asked, mockingly offended. I rolled my eyes. "Of course I do, I mean...yeah...But, well..." I sounded stupid so I just closed my mouth and resigned my eyes to the T.V screen, embarrassed.

He chuckled at my awkwardness, turning his gaze away too. I nervously twirled a piece of hair around my finger, trying to focus on the show. We just sat, watching T.V, for hours. I eventually fell asleep...so did he. I ended up lounged against his side, his arm around my shoulders, his fingers splayed in my hair.

It would have been creepy in any other instance, with anyone else, but it just felt pleasant.

_Dust covered the walls, the chair I was sitting on, the windows were grimy and unused. My hands were tied behind my back with duct tape. My throat was sore from screaming, hot wetness ran down from my head. I wiped my forehead on my shoulder. I was bleeding. I glanced around me into the gloomy warehouse. _

_I tried to call out, but my voice wouldn't work. It was painfully irritating. I was breathing so hard I thought my lungs would burst. _

_A flashlight gleamed ahead. It danced across the floor as someone's hand was swinging with each hurried step they took. _

_They were running towards me. I couldn't hear footsteps, I couldn't hear anything. My hands came free all of a sudden, and he appeared from the shadows. _

_"Edward!" I tried to say, but no sound escaped. _

_He saw me there, his face looked drawn and anxious. _

_He finally made it to me and I jumped into his arms, hugging him. _

_Then he was gone. I whirled around and met his eyes. He was sitting in the chair I had been before. His hands were tied behind his back, his face was battered and bruised. His head was bleeding. We had completely swapped positions. "We have to go." I said. Edward shook his head. _

_"No. Go without me." He ordered. And without saying anything more, I turned and ran._

I woke up, gasping for air. I frowned to myself. How could I be so horrible?

If it were real life, I wouldn't have left him there. It felt eerily real. Like I could almost imagine it happening. I would have shuddered had I not been pressed up to Edward's warm body. He was snoring softly, his arm still draped over me. I smiled then jumped when there was a knock at the door.

I sighed, carefully lifting his arm and standing up from the sofa. I turned the T.V off, briskly skipping to answer the door.

"I'm coming!" I hissed when they knocked again. I pulled the door open. "Alice," I breathed, shocked.

"What are you doing here?" Her face was a mask of concern and exasperation.

"Oh, well I don't know!" she threw her hands up, sneering sarcastically.

"You didn't come into work today, Mr. Black is on the war path," I stiffened but she didn't notice.

"And then he started clearing your stuff out of his office. What the fuck is going on, Bella?" she demanded, putting her hand on her hip. I bit my lip and sighed long and heavy. "Maybe you should come inside, Alice." She frowned, confused but came in anyway. She did a double take when she spotted Edward asleep on my couch. She whirled to face me. "You took the day off for a fuck buddy?" she hissed incredulously. I scoffed.

"Not likely, Alice. For god's sake. I have more decency than that." I whispered back, a little insulted at her accusation.

She glanced back at him. "I don't." She winked suggestively. "Ugh, Alice. Don't." I warned, frowning at her. I couldn't hold back the jealously. She raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly. "Alice, you need to know something about our boss." I started seriously.

She smirked. "That he's great in bed? Or what, he's a murderer?" she snorted. I grabbed her arm and pulled her into the kitchen. "Bingo," I said, staring into her eyes. She narrowed her eyes. "Seriously, though. What is it?" she pushed.

"Jacob Black is a murderer. His mob killed someone right in front of my eyes. He...he—tried to kill...me." Alice's eyes glazed over, the mocking smile gone from her mouth. She stared stunned for a moment then cupped her hand over her mouth.

"What? How can this be? Jacob? It can't be!" she shook her head vigorously.

"He's been in my house! He's hugged me," she continued, disgusted.

"Oh my god. He tried to kill you?" she grabbed my shoulders. "When? Have you called the police?!" I shook my head and motioned with my chin to the lounge room.

"Edward is undercover in his gang. He saved my life last night. He's the only one who knows." Alice dropped her hands and brought them to her face. She was still shaking her head. "This can't be real. This can't be happening. Not Jacob." She muttered. "Yes, I know. I didn't want to believe it at first, but...I saw first-hand what he's really like. And it isn't good."

She glanced up at me with shocked, wide eyes. "Alice," I sighed, reaching for her to give her a hug. "No, I...I have to...go." she mumbled almost incomprehensibly.

She moved away from my hands, and I let them fall dejectedly to my sides. She hurried out of the kitchen, down the hall and out the door. I stared after her.

I should go after her. She was upset and in shock. I had been too when I found out.

She had just found out that someone she knew and trusted tried to kill another person she knew and trusted and loved—me.

Her head would be spinning, just like mine was now.

***

I had to step out. I was in dire need for some supplies. Edward insisted on escorting me, I graciously accepted, lavishing his company, although he didn't need to know that. He only needed to know that it was necessary when someone might be out to get me. We only stopped at one place, he ghosted every step I took.

It was like having my own body guard, complete with the suit, the one he had been wearing the entire day, without the jacket, though.

Anyone who came within a four foot radius of me, he would stand in front of, guiding me around them.

It was a bit excessive, but that didn't stop me from liking it...only a bit. I stepped out of his Volvo, carrying a couple of brown bags filled with food. I was starving, I couldn't wait to start dinner. "I can cook," Edward said suddenly. I looked back at him over the roof of the car as he got out the other side.

"I'll cook tonight, if you want...?" he offered.

"I am kind of living here, burdening you. Eating your food." I hid my grin behind the grocery bags. I nodded.

"Okay," I agreed. "That sounds good." He grinned back, coming around to my side on the sidewalk and taking the bags from me. We walked in together, I giggled at his lame jokes. The laughter, his voice died out when we stopped at my floor. My door was open wide, everything was unnaturally quiet. I could only hear our breathing.

"Stay behind me," he said, putting the bags down on the floor outside the doorway.

I waited till he started walking in until I followed. I stayed in the middle of the hall.

He glanced around. "There's no-one here." He observed, walking back to get the groceries. I nodded, still feeling a spine-chilling uneasiness in my stomach.

I dropped my bag on the kitchen counter and walked towards my bathroom. I sighed as I opened the door, searching the wall for the light switch.

I sucked in a breath to scream.

**Oooohhh!! Hope you liked it :D Just in case you're wondering, Edward had to be pissed off. She did totally fuck it up, and he wasn't only angry that all his work is ruined, he was angry that she almost got raped and killed. So, he was being perfectly reasonable. :D And...I think that's it. Um, Alice sounds kind of like a little tart doesn't she? Haha.**

**R&R**

**Reviews are better than the Simpsons and Edward's lame jokes. :)**


	5. Gory Masterpiece

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight!**

**Hope you enjoy :)**

Blood. _Blood. _There was so much blood. It dripped down the tiled walls.

Pooling into vivid red puddles on the floor. My glistening eyes finally reached her pale, lifeless corpse.

A blood curdling scream wrecked through my lungs, filling the entire building with chilling atmosphere. Broken, terrified screams turned into wails. I slipped on the slick, blood covered tiles, landing on my hands and knees before her body. I fell into her blood, it smeared across my arms, my clothes. And the _smell_. The metallic smell of fresh blood, and a lot of it. It was enough to make me gag if I hadn't been frozen from moving at all. Edward was wrenching me upward into his arms within mere seconds. "Bella," he breathed.

"Bella, did you see anything?" he demanded.

My whole frame was shaking, his voice was a slow whisper, barely audible over the thumping of my pulse or the quick, shallow breaths I was panting. I could barely register anything in that moment apart from the dead girl on my bathroom floor.

"Alice!" I choked, struggling against Edward's hold on me. He had his arms wrapped around my shoulders and arms from behind. He was hissing anxiously in my ear, trying to turn me away. "Don't look! Don't look!"he kept repeating. What a stupid thing to say. I couldn't _not_ look, even if I didn't want to look, my eyes wouldn't move.

My once white bathroom was now a gory masterpiece of crimson splashed porcelain.

My hands gripped Edward's forearms, half wanting him never to let go, the other half begging him to so I could go to my friend.

The sheer look of vacant terror in her eyes almost made me scream again. I slipped out of his hold. "Bella!" he said disapprovingly. "Bella," he tried to coax me, but I slowly crawled forward, soaking my clothes further.

I held my hands over her body, hovering above it, not knowing what to do, what to say or if this was just a horrible dream.

I was praying that it was a dream, but life wasn't that merciful. Instead of waking up once I touched her skin, everything just became more real. My fingers brushed her face which had barely any blood on it at all. It was just pale...chalky..._dead._

And her body. I couldn't stomach it. I couldn't look at her anymore. Her clothes were slashed, the rest of her torso unrecognizable as and actual human body. I stood up stiffly, tripping over her to get outside of the room. Edward was already calling the police, I hadn't realised he had his gun his hands. I only just made it to the kitchen sink before I my stomach heaved it's contents up my throat. I leaned over the metal basin.

Then, my body couldn't retain it's posture anymore, it couldn't retain consciousness after all of that.

It blacked out, saving me anymore consciouss torment. But I could dream. Dreams could almost be worse. But nothing I had ever imagined could surmount to a tragedy such as this.

I had never before seen a dead body. Never before in my life. I had always wondered, out of morbid curiosity, what it was like.

I had no idea. And, now I did. And, I wish I didn't. I wished I could take it all back, the words I had said to Alice, the words that could have meant her un-timely end. My head was whirling uncomfortably with different scenarios. What if I had stayed home? Would she have been spared? Or would they have killed us both? Who did it? Was it one of Jacob's mobsters, or did he do it by his own hands. Like he was going to do me.

What did it mean? Was she there when she wasn't supposed to be and I was? Had she died in my place? Or was it a warning?

Could they have found out I was working in alliance with a detective, a certain detective who had posed as one of them for months? My mind was trying to process the mayhem my imagination was conjuring up. I couldn't stop them from fabricating. I saw the image of her dead body, sprawled in a contorted heap across the bathroom floor, her head lolled to the side, her mouth slightly open.

I pictured my body there, laying pale and cold, eyes glazed over. I could see it. I could see myself in her place. Possibly the way it was supposed to be.

My heart ached painfully, it was splintering painfully inside my chest. The loss, the hurt...it was all so much to endure.

I heard voices.

"Don't touch her!" someone snarled incredulously. "Don't move her. She'll be in shock when she wakes up, the thing she would want is some stranger strapping her to a gurney." I recognised Edward's voice. It soothed and placated me as I tried to snap out of it.

"But, you just said she was in shock," they reasoned. "She knows me. She will be more comfortable if I'm here, not you." he argued back, his voice low and menacing.

I could feel the scratchy, soft material of my sofa cushions underneath me.

I felt a hand cup my cheek--warm and inviting.

Someone else piped in then. "The body...it's...it's unlike anything I've seen before." they said in a slightly strangled voice. Edward's voice responded. "I have." he muttered.

"Most of the stabbing occured before the victim was deceased. She wouldn't have bled so much, otherwise." they explained, and I felt like hurling again.

"This mob business?" one questioned, a woman. "Detective?" Edward sighed. "I think so. It's the only explanation I can come up with." he seemed to be weighing his next words.

"Bella, she...she pissed off the mob boss." he said. I could hear hushed whispers. "Is she fucking insane? What did she do?" the woman asked, incredulously. If I could move I would have popped her for being so rude.

It sounded like Edward was speaking through gritted teeth. "She didn't do _anything," _He said slowly. "_He _was...assaulting her..." It sounded like he was grasping at straws, trying to come up with an explanation to all this shit we were undoubtedly up to our noses in. Because of his secrecy from the NYPD, and the feds, he was going to be in trouble if they found out I was a witness that hadn't been questioned, Edward may have blown his cover trying to save me on an stake out that nobody else knew about, and he had threatened Jacob Black, further jeapardising his career and his work.

I decided that now was the opportune moment to regain consciousness. I swam through the dark, trying to break the surface as Edward stuttered on his next words. I gasped, blinking my eyes and sitting bolt upright on my couch.

Had I just dreamed all that? Please, let me have just dreamed it.

"Was it a dream?" I asked Edward, squinting my eyes tightly closed. He breathed a shaky sigh.

"I'm sorry," Tears followed tears down my face until my top was almost completely drenched with not only Alice's blood, but my tears as well.

Edward's hand carressed my back gently, rubbing circles in a tender, comforting manner. It's what kept me from screaming some more. I was shaking with hushed sobs for my dead friend. Edward draped a thick afghan over my shoulders before standing up. It had been a couple of hours, it was sure to be late, if not morning already.

He stretched out slightly, everyone had left, my bathroom now cornered off with yellow police tape. The blood still fresh and filling the rooms of my house with it's smell.

I was almost hyperventilating.

"Edward," I said hoarsely, chewing on my lip. He turned to face me. "What is it?" he asked softly, kneeling down by the couch.

"I can't stay here," I shook my head. He frowned. "Of course you can't." he murmured. "Listen, you can stay with me for as long as you like, until we make other arrangements, okay?" I didn't want other arrangements. I agreed with a stiff nod, taking his hand to help me stand. I felt like an old lady.

"Come, on." he said quietly, guiding me out. He didn't lock the door, just simply closed it behind us. He stood by my side the entire time, like he was afraid I would break down again at any moment, just spontaneously erupt in a fit of tears or desparation.

He had a hand on my shoulder at all times, opening my door for me at his car before carefully helping me in.

He also kept stealing glances at me from the corners of his eyes.

I wanted to hit him for acting so weird, but I couldn't find the motivation or strength in me to do so. So I just sat, watched the dim lights rush past us and breathed.

We stopped finally, outside Edward's apartment building. It was red-bricked too, but kind of nicer. Which I had expected anyway.

He led me inside, I still had the afghan blanket still wrapped around my shoulders. He motioned with his hand to the whole apartment. I internally gaped. Why did he bother crashing at my house when he could come home to _this! _It was modern, it wasn't particularly fancy, just tasteful furniture and decor. It wasn't even that expensive, just more expensive than my things. Intern wages didn't rise far above the average American pay cheque.

The walls were an off-white. The furniture was cream, the sofa's big, cushiony and leather. He came up to me, a towel, a shirt and some pajama pants in his hands. I stared at them stupidly for a moment before realising he was giving me clothes to change into after I took a shower. I nodded and smiled half-heartedly.

_Oh, god, they smelled like him._ I stood in the bathroom, after coming out of the hot shower, sniffing the t-shirt.

I pulled it on, it was very big on me, but it didn't matter. That would only make it more comfortable. When I came out, Edward was laying out blankets over one of the giant sofas. He slowly padded down the hall to another room--his bedroom, I assumed.

I felt so incredibly lonely here, in the dark. I took a deep breath and sat down, laying my head back and pulling the soft blankets over me.

I stared at the plain ceiling, sleep avading me at all costs. It wasn't that I was tired. I was utterly _exhausted. _It was just...the blood. The red colour, the smell of it, the feel of it on my clothes. I could still feel it on my hands.

After an hour or so, I got up. I walked quietly, hastily but also hesitantly. I paused at his door, considering if what I was doing was wrong.

I just didn't want to be alone, that's all. He wouldn't begrudge me his company? Would he?

I sucked in a lung full of air, turning the door knob. I saw him in bed, shirtless and wearing pajama bottoms like the one's he gave me.

He was slightly sprawled, one arm across his stomach, the other covering his face. His legs were tangled up in the sheets.

I stared for a moment before approaching his bed. I tried my best not to jostle him. The bed hardly moved at all once I had settled in beside him. I moved closer and his eyes flickered open. "Bella?" he whispered. "What are you doing?" I just scooted closer, curling up beside him and his warm body. The tears streamed again, and I expected him to tell me to leave, but his arm came around me, pulling me closer. "It's okay," he soothed, smoothing my hair down my back.

"I'm right here."

**Dun-dun-dunnn!! You gueesssed correct if you guessed Alice. Well done, I shall send you all cookies via air-mail ;)**

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**Reviews are better than Edward's pajama bottoms.**


	6. Detective Hale, Detective Whitlock

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight! ;)**

"Just, don't leave me alone, okay?" she pleaded, hesitantly placing her hand on my stomach. I took a long, shaky breath.

"Of course," I said, simply. She nuzzled closer, her head now resting on my chest. I tried to regulate my breathing and heart beat. I was internally warring with myself. I wanted so bad to have her...but it was wrong. Besides, she was a witness, it was a conflict of interest.

And she was young and vulnerable. I was older, experienced with this kind of thing--death, that is. I couldn't, and I wouldn't take advantage of her when she was in this state.

So, I just held her, lavishing in the fact that I got this much.

When I heard that scream...I thought for sure that she was being hurt. That I so stupidly hadn't checked all the rooms, leaving her succeptable to an attack. My world moved in slow motion until I finally reached that bathroom where her screams had turned into desperate sobs. Then, I almost had another heart attack. She was covered in blood.

The blood drained out of my face when I thought it was her's at first glance. But when I looked closer, I saw the body.

_"Alice Brandon," I informed them. "A friend and co-worker of Isabella's." I sighed, looking down at my bloody hands--feeling sick because I was kind of relieved it wasn't Bella's._

_"Was the door opened, unlocked or locked when you got in?" Detective Hale questioned. I glared up at her. "I told you already, Hale. It was wide fucking open." I sneered. She rolled her eyes. "You should be used to this by now, Edward." I hated when she called me Edward, like I was a friend of hers, I didn't call her Rosalie, what gave her the priveledge? "Used to people dying around me?" I asked sarcastically. Fucking bitch._

_"And, what did you do after you saw the open door?" she went on, ignoring how pissed off I was. I sighed when she flipped her long blonde hair and tapped her shoe impatiently. "I went in, leaving Isabella outside incase the perpetraitor was still in the apartment." I scowled. "I left the bag of groceries outside the door, too." She raised an eyebrow. "So, you're going shopping with witnesses now, or what?" she asked, smirking._

_I was never one for hitting. Hitting men, even. But after meeting Bella, I needed to hit people. I needed to do it, to get all my frustrations out, frustrations of her naievety, of my stupidity, or anyone who spoke ill of her or me._

_Detective Rosalie Hale just happened to be the closest. But she was a woman, and...well, that wouldn't go down well on my record. _

_As much as I was opposed to hitting women...it was tempting. And to think I had come to this! I had been so effected by Bella that I was turning violent._

_What was wrong with me? I didn't like it. When I didn't answer she continued her grilling methodically. "So, you didn't check all the rooms before?" I shook my head. "No, I didn't."_

_She nodded, writing it down on her notepad. "What happened then?" I sighed. "I came back out to grab the groceries," I glanced back up at her, she was still writing. "Then, Ms. Swan here, went in before me. I went into the kitchen and she went into her bedroom. Next thing I know...I hear a scream," I shrugged. "I came running in, thinking the intruder was in the house..._killing_ her," I shook my head. "Then I saw her covered in blood." I gulped loudly. _

_One thing you never get used to..._that smell._ Or the sight of it. Something we have ingrained in us since birth, we cannot see our own species like that, our survival instinct kicks in. It's so unnatural, we aren't built to get used to such things._

_Our minds simply can't. Thats what I had learnt from being a cop, anyway._

_"I thought it was her's, then I saw Ms. Brandon on the floor, her body was...barely intact."_

_I wish I could say that was the first time I had ever seen it. But it wasn't._

_"I've seen this work before." I said flatly, staring up at her. She frowned, confused. "Where? You think it's a serial killer?" she quizzed._

_Then a paremdic went over to Bella lying on the couch. He bent down to pick her up. _

I came back to the present. Bella sleeping soundly, in my arms, on my bed...on _me._ Fuck.

~~~~____~~~~

I woke up with the sun on my back, streaming through my window to the right of my bed.

It was heating up my skin, keeping me warm, Bella had stolen the blankets from me half-way through the night. I couldn't find it in me to complain. She was warm enough.

We were facing the other way, my arms around her waist, her hands on my arms, holding them just below her chest.

I could have stayed there, but we had to get up eventually. I slowly retracted my arms, carefully trying not to wake her. I wondered if she slept well, if being with me made her feel better. I liked to think so. But I also hated the idea...the idea that I was getting to close to the job.

I gave myself a mental pep talk.

_Relax. Things happen, things you can't control. Bella is just a witness, someone you have to protect. You're going to be spending a lot of time with her, you have already._

_This is normal._

I brightened at the thought of more time with her than slapped myself for being such a tool. I couldn't afford to like it.

But I was right. I needed to protect her, someone was trying to scare her into giving up, into letting everything go. They were waiting on a confirmation of some sort.

They needed to know if she got the message or not. Would they go any further? Maybe we could make it look like she got the warning. Make her disappear, so they would assume she kept her mouth shut and didn't divulge anything about the mob to the police. They would just assume the case was a murder--a sick one at that.

I calculated our next move as I sauntered into the kitchen. I checked the clock on the wall, ticking slowly past 8 am. I sighed. I had hardly slept, but I couldn't exactly fall asleep now. And, getting back into bed would only wake Bella.

I mean...Isabella. Ms. Swan. It would wake Ms. Swan.

Ugh.

I turned on the coffee machine, waiting for it to perculate while I mulled over the paper I got from the front door.

There was nothing about last night in there. The feds probably wanted to keep it well under wraps.

That was probably the wisest thing to do.

I poured some hot coffee into a mug. God, I needed the caffeine. There was a loud banging at the door. I jumped, spilling my coffee. "Fucker!" I hissed. I sighed, throwing the paper down on the counter next to my mug and briskly strolling over to the front door.

I peered through the peek-hole, wanting to see who was up this early.

"Detective Hale, Detective Whitlock." I nodded to them as they entered. They were partners, I didn't have a partner, nobody would go with me, besides, I preferred to work alone.

Well, that is...until now.

"How are you, Cullen?" Detective Whitlock asked, brushing his blonde hair out of his eyes. I shrugged.

"I've had a pretty rough week." I said plainly, ignoring his attempt at being casual and sympathetic.

He nodded solemnly. I didn't mind Jasper Whitlock, a colourful agent, spent most of his adult life on the force.

He was first and foremost a cop, the way he regarded his job, anyone would think he was a soldier. He was clean, precise and brutal. But other times, when the situation called for it, he could be amazingly empathic and comforting. Now was not one of those moments. I wasn't in the mood for his good energy shit.

Rosalie piped in then. "We'd like to speak to Ms. Swan, if that's alright." she didn't really say it as a question. She wasn't giving me the power, she was after all, my superior. She liked to use that against me any chance she got. What had me fucked was why she was even a cop to begin with. I mean, she was supermodel material, she had the attitude and the looks, but she chose this career, above something she would hardly have to work for.

She was either extremely charsimatic and or dumb as dog shit. My guess was the latter.

"She's asleep. She had a rough night." I said flatly, trying not to glare at her. Jasper was the good cop, per say, and Rosalie was the bad cop.

Though, her good looks gave her a halo effect, people assume that she's a nice person, and because she's the woman. Most people shit themselves when she gets in the interrogaton room, makign most people cry by the end of it. It was obvious who held the balls in this partnership.

I kind of felt sorry for Detective Whitlock. What a pain in the ass to deal with on a daily basis. Then we get straight back to the reason I like working alone.

The force either gives you an old, decrepit agent, old enough to be in a nursing home and think they're better than you, or they give you a rookie who doesn't know shit and i sbarely out of diapers yet they're that young, or the worst, you could get someone like Rosalie, or even Lauren Mallory, another bitchy cop in our jurisdiciton.

Then again, I almost felt bad for thinking such sulfurous thoughts towards them, seeing as they're women, and if they show any sign of weakness, they'd be chastised for the rest of their career and therefore have to be bitchy as a prerequisite. But then Rosalie just has to talk...then I can go back to hating her.

It was easy.

She eyed me speculatively then. "Hmm." was all she said, glancing around my living room. "Can I get you a drink?" I offered, only being polite...slightly. "No, thanks." they both said at once. I just shrugged and shuffled back to the kitchen, they followed suit, leaning up against the counter while I wiped up my spilt coffee.

"We need to ask the witness some questions." Detective Hale continued. I grit my teeth. "I told you, she's not ready for that." I breathed deeply.

She folded her arms across her chest, squaring her feet. "We don't care if she's on her death bed, somebody died in her apartment yesterday, Cullen!" she raised her voice. I glared, wide-eyed at her, my fingers twitching.

"I've told you everything there is to know." She narrowed her eyes, Jasper watched, not intervening or adding something in.

"Since when do you take such an interest in your witnesses?" she hedged acidly. I glanced up at her...unsure why, either.

I didn't answer. "Are you sleeping with Ms. Swan?" she accused, her jaw locking. I frowned. "What? No! No, it's not like that." I assured her.

Then, right on goddamn fucking cue, Bella walked out.

Oh fuck my life.

BPOV

I dragged my feet across the shiny floorboards. I heard voices and they were getting louder. I wondered idly who would be here at 8 in the morning.

I stepped out into the open, expecting the voices to be coming from the T.V or something.

They were not.

"Ah, fuck." I muttered to myself.

Two blonde cops were standing in Edward's kitchen, most likely grilling him about last night. I shuddered as my memories drifted back to the bathroom of my apartment...the blood on the walls...the floor...my hands.

They all stopped talking when entered. I froze, my feet planted flatly in front of them, right beside the fridge.

"Um," Edward began. "Isabella, this is Detective Hale," she pointed to a tall, beautiful model-like woman with long blonde hair and blue eyes. Why the heck was she a cop?

I thought acid thoughts toward her, being that she probably worked with Edward. I was overcome with jealously. I wanted to bang my head against the granite bench tops.

"And, this is Detective Whitlock." he said, pointing to the tall, blonde male leaning casually by the kitchen counter.

"Uh, hi." I croaked, my throat thick from sleeping. I rubbed at my eyes and tried to comb my fingers through my hair. Detective Hale cocked an eyebrow at my appearance, her eyes landing on the large, obviously male t-shirt and pajama pants I was wearing.

"I needed clothes." I told her. "Mine were covered in blood." I explained. Edward looked relieved. I had to admit, that stung. He wouldn't want anyone to get the impression we were sleeping together...well, having sex, because technically, we slept together last night, just not in that way.

I also admitted to myself that either way, I wouldn't have minded.

The blonde detectives just stared at me. "We need to ask you a few questions about last night, Ms. Swan." Detective Whitlock said softly, a sympathetic smile on his face. I already liekd him.

I nodded. "Okay." Edward motioned for them to sit on the kicthen stools. I stood on the opposite side of the counter, clasping and unclasping my hands.

They were jus going through the motions. I answered simply: yes, no, i saw the blood, or, it was Alice Brandon, my friend and co-worker. Nothing I hadn't expected. Until...

"Ms. Swan, have you been involved with a Mr. Black, a Jacob Black of the Law firm in Manhattan?" Detective Hale asked, flipping through her notepad.

I glanced at Edward, his face was shadowed but he nodded. I glanced back at the two detectives. Detective Whitlock was staring at Detective Hale incredulously. Maybe she had accidentally divulged too much of what they knew. In any case, it didn't matter, I already knew. And, I was going to tell them.

"Yes, I was." I stated. "Jacob Black was my boss at the office. I was an intern." I went through a play by play of the night of the benefit, leaving out the inconsequential details. Then, I threw myself and Edward to the sharks when I told them about witnessing Mike's murder.

"I had seen one of his mobs kill Mike, a man I had just met, a couple of blocks from my house, in that alley way." I explained. I chanced a peek at Edward. He had his hand over his face.

"You witnessed the murder of Mike Newton?" Detective Whitlock asked cautiously. Detective Hale looked angry. I nodded. "Yes."

They shared a glance then turned their glares to Edward.

Oh shit, I've dumped him in it.

**HEHE. Hope you liked it ;)**

**Reviews are better than Jasper's blonde hair or Edward's percolator. ;)**

**R&R**


	7. Fucked up

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight :)**

**Thankyou for your reviews, you deserved the preview at the end of the chapter!!**

Oh fuck. What did I just do?

_You single-handedly destroyed every fucking hope of being with Edward. That's what you did._

"Uhh," I stuttered, trying to salvage whatever hope there was of saving his and my ass.

Edward sighed, defeated.

I bit my lip, staring worriedly at his face. Detective Hale spoke again. "Expect to hear from the captain about this," she hissed scathingly. I flinched, even though her words were not meant for me. I had definitely, one hundred and ten percent, completely fucked things up.

"Detective Cullen? You have a lot of explaining to do. There will be a federal inquiry!" Detective Whitlock scolded him. "Why wasn't she taken in for questioning yet? Is she an asset to the murder? A suspect?" he demanded, slamming his hand on the table. I jumped. Edward glared at the blonde man. "No," he said through gritted teeth. "Then why have you decided to go fuck yourself up by hiding this from us?" The woman asked.

I held my breath, watching his face intently.

"She didn't see much at all. And, besides, I think there's someone...I think..." he trailed off. Detective Hale smirked at him and shook her head in disgust. "Carlisle would be rolling over in his grave." she sneered. Edward's eyes bugged out, he glared at the woman, his fists clenching together, his stare was wild and sinister.

"So you don't have a valid excuse?" she pressed. Edward didn't say anything...or move at all. She glanced at me, taking in my posture again and shook her head, clucking her tongue.

Detective Whitlock just sighed sadly, staring a Edward.

They both stood then, ghosting out the door, it slammed shut behind them, leaving the two of us in silence.

"Shit," I muttered. Edward was breathing deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. His other hand was clenched into a fist.

"I'm so--" "Fuck!" he muttered. "Fuck, fuck fuck! What the fuck am I going to do now? Fuck!" he yelled, smacking his hand across the counter and knocking the coffee maching to the floor.

The glass shattered over my feet, scolding hot coffee spilled on top of that. I sucked in a breath but held back the scream, as Edward--oblivious--turned around in circles, muttering curses under his breath. When his back was turned, I darted for the bathroom.

I slammed the door behind me, running over to the bath tub. I sunk the plug in and wrenched the cold water tap on.

Pure bliss.

I sighed a breath of relief as the cold water soothed my red feet. I took a deep breath, the water was staining red.

I leant down to pull a fragment of glass out of my skin. I stopped the water and grabbed a towel from the rack, not caring whether I would stain it or not.

I would buy him a new one.

I gingerly pulled my worst foot out of the tub, the other wasn't as bad, it didn't have any glass in it.

I wrapped the towel around it tightly, sitting it on the edge while I swirled my other foot around. I decided it was best to leave Edward alone for now, rather than try and comfort him. I knew I would only make it a million times worse. He was livid, he broke a coffee jug on my foot without even noticing, so I would let him cool down for a while.

What was the worst that could happen when I _wasn't_ around? Absolutely nothing.

I sighed and watched my skin slowly fade back to a normal colour.

~~~~____~~~~

I peeked out of the bathroom door, it was silent. I hopped back to his bedroom, falling backwards when I tried to creep back out after seeing him there.

He was sitting on the foot of the bed, his head in his hands.

"Ooomf," I huffed, landing square on my ass. I sighed, falling onto my back and staying there, in the middle of the carpet at his door. I heard the bed squeak slightly, his face appeared above me and he knelt down. He glanced at my foot.

"What happened?" he asked, I could tell he was still pissed. I shrugged and shook my head.

He rolled his eyes and went to investigate for himself.

"What the fuck did you do?" he asked, pulling the towel away.

I cleared my throat. "It's nothing, when the coffee jug fell off the counter, it sort of landed on my feet." I explained with a wave of my hand. "It's not a big deal."

Edward groaned and sat down properly, he collapsed back onto the floor too. "It didn't fall, I pushed it." he stated in a hard voice. "It was my fault."

"You sound like your admitting to murder." I observed. He laughed once without humour. "Hmm, sounds like it." he murmured.

"Well, maybe I deserved it." I said, shaking my head at myself. His face tightened but he didn't say anything which meant he probably agreed with me. I stared at him, his eyes, green and shimmering, the bags under them, showed stress, his mouth was a hard line and his eyebrows were furrowed with anger.

He was like a lion and I was the poor, stupid, defenceless lamb. Fuck me, could this situation get any worse? Or to pin the blame, could I _make_ this situation any worse? The answer? I had no idea. But knowing my luck, it was quite possible. The thought made me sick. How far had this gone already?

"How bad is it?" I asked carefully. He turned his face toward me.

I couldn't breathe. His eyes bored into mine with shock intensity. "It's not that bad, you won't even need stitches." he said shortly, turning his face back to staring at the ceiling. I frowned. "What? No, not my foot. I mean...with how I screwed everything up, _again._ How much trouble are you in?" I almost didn't want to know, it would only season the guilt I already had about the situation.

He sighed long and deep, closing his eyes.

"The captain spoke to me over the phone just before," he started. I watched his face. "He's pissed. He's deciding a punishment now, as we speak." I pushed myself up onto my elbows.

"Im so sorry, I didn't even think about what I was saying." it all came out in a gush of words. I lay back down, placing my hands on my stomach. "I'm just...fucked up." I ran my hand through my hair nervously. "I can't tell you how sorry I am." Edward pushed himself up so he was leaning on his elbows now. He looked down at me, shifting so he was on his side.

"I know you're sorry." he murmured softly, almost regrettably.

As he gazed, the intensity grew stronger. I could feel the need for him. It was overriding all my other needs...by miles.

His hand reached out to my face, brushing a strand from my cheek, his hand lingered and my heart skipped a beat.

"I'm sorry, too." he murmured. I could feel his breath against my face.

_Oh, fuck. Holy shit. _

My thoughts were raging wildly. Begging me to make the next move, to just sit up and pull his face closer. But I was glued to the floor, dumbfounded and bewildered. His finger tips transmitted a sort of current of energy, tingling my skin whenever it came into contact with his.

His face had gotten closer, all I had to do was move mine. He was waiting for me to do it.

His eyes were hooded and impatient, his expression was warring between desire and concentration. Atleast, that's what I thought.

But what I thought usually seemed to be completely off the bar these days.

He sighed, removing his hands from my face and looked away, I could detect a hint of shame in his eyes.

Shame? What did _he_ have to be ashamed of?

I was the shameful one. Look at what I had done lately.

I gulped loudly. "We should get you some clothes," he stated. "You'll need your own clothes. And some money for a hotel room if you don't want to go home."

I stared at him, shocked. He didn't want me after all. It was pity last night. That was all it was. I tried to swallow the dry lump in my throat. I turned my face away so he wouldn't see the budding tears. I sat up stiffly, getting to my feet and wobbling towards the bathroom, discarding that fucking towel.

I pulled my clothes out of the dryer, I had washed them last night.

I put them on and threw Edward's clothes over the towel rack in his bathroom.

I sauntered sourly over to the front door. "Lets not waste any time then." I said acidly, although I doubt he noticed how hurt I was.

I sighed dejectedly, avoiding eye contact with him as he shuffled through the hallway towards me, grabbing his car keys off the coffee table. I shoved my shoes on with more force than necessary. I'm sure he would have cocked an eyebrow or made a snappy remark, but he didn't bother. He was just happy to see me leave.

I was happy too. If he didn't want me here, he didn't have to keep me here.

It's not like he owed me anything. If anything, I owed him. A lot.

I hopped down the stairs of his building, narrowly avoiding two accidents of slipping and breaking my neck.

I finally made it to the last one and hobbled miserably to his Volvo outside. His face was brooding and concentrated as we made our way through the city streets. I lived on the outskirts, he lived closer to Hoboken. The traffic was tough. Gridlock most of the way through. It was typical, and yet it enraged me more than usual.

I couldn't say the same for Edward though. He was calm and collected, his body and face onyl slightly rigid now.

I wanted to huff and complain like a little child who had a crush on the boy that bullied her. How pathetic.

I always promised myself I wouldn't become _that_ girl. Look at me now. I _was_ that girl. The one who falls for a guy who hates her. Shit.

What have I done? That was the second time today I asked myself that question.

The only upside to going home and not staying with Edward is that I could get some of my clothes and belongings. I had missed the feel of my sneakers and the scent of my kicthen. Although, as I thought about it. My kitchen would not smell the same anymore. It would smell of only one thing--Alice's blood.

I winced, trying to blink back the tears. I hugged myself tightly around the torso.

I was going to pieces.

I sniffed quietly, hoping he wouldn't notice my inner turmoil over everything; Alice's brutal murder, his rejection...or a combination of both.

What else could life throw at me? We stopped outside my building and I wondered if he would come inside with me.

He would probably think he was obliged to, seeing as how he is on this case. The one that I had fucked up...within a week or two I might add.

_I _should be arrested.

God, why was I acting so emotional? I mean, the Alice thing was enough, but why was I so cut up about Edward.

We had hardly got along during our time together anyway. What made me so upset about this shit hole of a situation?

I sighed, pondering silently.

I should have listened to my instincts. I shouldn't have been thinking those thoughts about Edward. I should never have said or done those things. I should NEVER have slept in his bed last night either. Because that little stunt just sealed my fate.

I was fucking falling for him. I was goddamn fucking falling in fucking love with Detective fucking Cullen.

Well, shit.

**Hope you liked it :) Next chapter preview:**

**I wanted him to touch me, I wanted him to hold me, I wanted everything of him and for him to want everything of me. But life didn't spout fairytales. It wasn't all puppies and rainbows and shit, it was fucking hard and rough and full of hurt.**

**I sighed gloomily as I opened the door, his footsteps were slow and reluctant behind me. I should just throw myself off the roof right now.**

**I glanced back at him, he walked closer, his hands stuffed in his pockets. I could see his gun holster under his jacket when he did that. He looked as miserable as I felt. Which was hard to imagine. Although having a near lifetime of work destroyed by some nutter was pretty depressing in itself.**

**"Look, no-one here to kill me." I mumbled to the floor. "You're free to go." I breathed, turning away. He sighed. **

**He walked to me then, grabbing my elbow. I pulled away. "Don't. I told you, you can go." I raised my voice, exasperatedly.**

**I could feel the tears coming. They were about to spill over my cheeks. Here it comes-- Edward's hands shot out and I thought for a moment he was trying to embrace me.**

**How wrong and delusional I was. He wrenched me toward him but not in a romantic manner at all. I sucked in a breath but didn't find my voice in time to scream.**

**There was a perculiar buzzing noise, it was coming from my front door. Edward shoved me through to the living room, landing on top of me before it hit.**

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**Reviews are better than puppies and rainbows and shit.**


	8. Fight over fate

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight! Oh, I love this chapter :) Hope you do too.**

**:D**

I scowled at the dash board with spectacular fervour. I watched my life crumble before my eyes, everything I wanted sat right beside me, at arm's length, but still impossibly out of reach.

I gnashed my teeth together, frustrated with my rollercoaster emotions.

It was just so typical of me, to fall in love with the wrong person.

I was so unhinged, I needed professional help. I resolved to look into it after I hung myself.

I threw the door open, pushing myself out of the car and slamming it behind me. I glanced over my shoulder when I heard his door open and close. I scowled at the pavement in front of me.

"You can go now, I'm fine to open the door by myself. I don't expect you to stay." I called over my shoulder, expecting him to take a hint.

He didn't.

He was either being really nice or he was exceptionally thick-headed.

Either way, he kept following me, ghosting my footsteps into the elevator. I glowered silently at the floor, not saying a word, nor did he.

I took that as a confirmation. He didn't want to be here, just like I had thought. This was all work for him. It was nothing personal.

He doesn't get involved, that's probably why he didn't have a partner.

The doors slid open on my floor.

I tripped but quickly righted myself, so he had no need to bother himself with helping me. I was fine in taking care of myself.

I had done that, plus take care of my mother for as many years, I was perfectly capable.

But that didn't hinder the burning desire for him.

I began to realise that nothing ever would.

I wanted him to touch me, I wanted him to hold me, I wanted everything of him and for him to want everything of me. But life didn't spout fairytales. It wasn't all puppies and rainbows and shit, it was fucking hard and rough and full of hurt.

I sighed gloomily as I opened the front door, his footsteps were slow and reluctant behind me. I should just throw myself off the roof right now.

I glanced back at him, he walked closer, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He looked as miserable as I felt. Which, was hard to imagine. Although having a near lifetime of work destroyed by some nutter was pretty depressing in itself.

"Look, no-one here to kill me." I mumbled to the floor. "You're free to go." I breathed, turning away. He sighed.

He walked to me then, grabbing my elbow. "Bella," I pulled away. "Don't. I told you, you can go." I raised my voice, exasperatedly.

I could feel the tears coming. They were about to spill over my cheeks. Here it comes-- Edward's hands shot out and I thought for a moment he was trying to embrace me.

How wrong and delusional I was. He wrenched me toward him but not in a romantic manner at all. I sucked in a breath but didn't find my voice in time to scream.

There was a peculiar buzzing noise, it was coming from my front door. Edward shoved me through to the living room, landing on top of me before it hit.

A deafening bang sounded from the hallway, debris flew at us from every direction. Edward was flat on top of me, his arms covering my face and most of his.

We tensed in unison as whatever it was—I assumed brick, dry wall and splintered wood—ricocheted off Edward's back.

My smoke alarm went off.

The sprinkler system followed, dousing the flames erupting in my hall. I could see the faint orange glow from under Edward's arm.

I was breathing erratically.

My apartment had been bombed.

Someone wanted me dead.

Someone knew I was working with the police.

Shit.

Edward finally opened his eyes, unclenching his hands, water running over his face and hair, splattering onto mine.

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously. I nodded.

"Yes," I croaked.

He sighed, nodding. "Good," he breathed. He got to his knees then, hauling himself up to his feet. He reached down for me then, grabbing my hands and helping me up. The water soaked our clothes, running in rivulets down our bodies.

"Someone wants me dead." I stated blandly, no emotion in my voice.

I was in shock.

Edward gazed intensely into my eyes, his jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. His chest heaved up and down.

"Someone wants you dead." He nodded, his eyes flashing with anger.

Hey, I guess being a target wasn't pleasant, I'm pissed too.

Edward's grey, long-sleeved shirt clung to his body with the showering down on us.

I looked down at myself, my top was becoming see-through. I wrapped my arms around myself. "What do we do now?" I shivered, my teeth chattering. His eyes widened as he stared at my forehead. "What?" I asked. "What is it?" He stood in front of me, touching my face gingerly with his finger tips. It was tender, and it stung. I sucked in a breath. "Ow," I brought my own hand up and came back with a bloody palm. "Fuck, is it bad?" I asked, looking up at him. He shook his head. "It should be okay."

I strolled towards the hallway, doing damage control. How much of my apartment was lost? I peered around the corner, stopping when I was in the middle of the carnage.

I let out a shaky breath, more moisture in my eyes. "My home," I choked. I shook my head. "It's ruined." My lip trembled. I was just so upset.

I had lost my best friend, my house and Edward all in such a short space of time. My heart ached and I just needed someone to hold me. Edward's arms wound around me, pulling me to him. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I really am." I sobbed into his chest, my hands fisted in his shirt.

I sniffed loudly. "What now?" I asked again, bringing my face back enough to look him in the eyes.

He stared back, his hands on my both my arms, gripping tightly. "You're in danger," he stated matter-of-factly. I nodded, knowing this already.

"I'm going to drop you off at my house. Then, I'm going to go meet up with my crew—" "What?!" I demanded, incredulous. "They'll kill you when they find out who you are!" My voice rose a few octaves.

"It's suicide!" He was already shaking his head. "Jacob doesn't have a picture of me, my crew are also very independent." He explained, his voice hard. "We should get out of here." He said quickly. "The fire brigade will be here soon, so will my department. Everything will be taken care of." He spoke through his words quickly.

His hand grabbed mine, towing me out the door, his long-legged strides were hard to keep up with.

He practically swung me into the car, darting around the front of it and slipping into his seat. Neither of us bothered with seatbelts. He flawed it through my neighbourhood, I gripped the seat with trembling hands.

The brakes screeched loudly outside his building. "Here," he said, throwing me his house key. I caught it. That was a first.

His hand wrapped around my arm, squeezing it tightly for emphasis. "Don't let anyone in, except if it's Detective Hale or Detective Whitlock. If it's someone claiming to work with me or them, ask for ID through the door. Stay hidden, close the drapes, don't answer the phone." He ordered.

I nodded. "When will you be back?" I squeaked, tears welling again. "I don't know. But I promise I'll come back." He vowed. I gulped and nodded again, tears falling.

He leant forward then and my breathing hitched, his lips pressed softly against my forehead. "Take care of yourself." He whispered. "Only if you do the same." I ordered in a weak voice.

He smiled tensely and nodded.

I opened the door and closed it behind me, he watched my back until I made it inside.

I heard his car speed off into the distance.

**EPOV**

"You fuckers are going to pay!" I hissed, banging the heels of my palms against the steering wheel.

When I heard that noise, I thought that had been it. Bella was closest to the door. Out of instinct, it was utterly natural for me to do what I did. But it was as if I had been forced.

I _needed_ to protect Bella. I threw our bodies through the living room, landing on her body, shielding her face with my arms.

My safety didn't seem important.

Not to me.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and sent a message through all of their phones. I told them to meet in a place we knew well.

I parked my car a few blocks away, striding down the sidewalk past torrents of people, my clothes still damp. "Shit," I muttered. I ran back to my car, grabbing my jacket from the back seat.

It would have to do.

I ran forward, toward the empty lot down the street. The abandoned building used to be a timber mill.

I knocked twice on the side door and it slid open roughly. The metal screeching against metal.

"I need an update," I demanded, my voice full of authority. José answered. "Mr. Janovich," he started. I had used a fake name, which was what they addressed me by. "Everything is being taken care of, we bear no need to worry." He assured me with a cunning smile.

I glared at him, pressing my lips together.

"I don't like being out of the loop. Now, update!" I took a seat on a rusty metal framed chair. It sat in the middle of the cavernous factory, dim light flowed through the grimy windows.

Dust covered my hands. I dusted them off on my knees.

I stared pointedly at José. He cleared his throat nervously. It was odd, sometimes, to know that they sort of feared me. For all they knew, I was a rogue, a murderer.

It gave me status, which only made me hate them more.

"The girl," My head snapped up. "What girl?" I sneered. He looked around, his eyes raking over everyone. He was worried about telling me for he might be punished. "The girl who saw the crew kill Newton, she has been working with the police!" he hissed, clenching his fists.

José was a short, stocky man, his South American background giving him a particular accent, bending his English.

I feigned a furious expression. "And?" He smiled slightly then, it took all my control not to rip him apart right there.

"We have rigged her home with a little present." He winked. "If that doesn't work, which I highly doubt, Mr. Janovich, but Mr. Black has put a hit out on her. He'll reimburse, about...five k."

My vision went red, my hands clenched into fists, the anger and rage was a coppery taste on my tongue.

I could feel my control slipping. "Very well," I stated sharply. "Keep me informed next time!" I barked, standing up and storming out before I pulled my gun to their heads. I kept it tucked into the back of my jeans when I was undercover. Gun holsters were notorious for cops.

I paced the streets anxiously, panicked and furious. They put a fucking hit on her. People were going to be coming at us from every corner.

She's a target, Black has put money up for grabs to whoever takes her out. Five grand to whoever could do it, to whoever could get passed me. Not that they knew she had protection. Nor did they know that the bomb hadn't killed her.

Although, it very nearly had.

I revved the car at full speed all the way home, afraid to leave her alone for more time than completely necessary. It was raining outside now, my wet clothes growing heavier with the added weight.

My jacket and jeans were saturated, it was like lifting lead weights attached to my legs.

I hopped up the front steps and into the elevator, wasting no time.

I wanted to see her face.

I _needed _to.

I couldn't fight it anymore.

Who was I kidding?

The elevator opened and I ran flat out for my front door. I banged on it with a flat palm.

"Bella, it's me." I informed her. She came running to the door, wrenching it open forcefully and stepping back with a relieved smile on her face.

That was it.

I _couldn't_ fight this. I didn't want to.

In two easy steps, I closed the distance between us, cupping her face with my right hand, not being particularly gentle.

I pulled her to me.

My lips met hers, moving feverishly together.

Her hands went behind my back, grasping tightly in my jacket. She started pulling it down my arms, I shrugged out of it easily, and went back to kissing her.

In the heat of the moment, I pushed her back until she hit the wall. My hands moved down her face, her neck, to her shoulders. Her hands curled up in my hair, pulling on it tightly.

I breathed hard into her mouth, she gently took my bottom lip between her teeth. I groaned, her lips came back to mine. She tasted so _good!_ I could barely stand it.

I needed more of her.

She wanted more of me.

Her tongue plunged into my mouth, while her hands moved down to my shirt, pulling it upwards and over my head. I took her shirt in my hands, almost tearing the fabric.

Not breaking the kiss, her hands started unbuckling my belt, unzipping my pants.

I helped her undo hers as well.

I pressed my body up against hers harder, feeling every inch of her body against mine.

She panted down my throat and I was undone.

"Bella," I breathed. She kicked her jeans off. "I want you." She whispered against my lips. That was all I needed. My hands moved behind her back, skimming down to her thighs, pulling her up against me so she wrapped her legs around my waist.

I carried her into the bedroom and sat down with her on top of me. She pushed me down with a hand to my chest. She reached behind her back, unclasping her bra. She leant down, her hair brushing across my face and neck—and smelling unbelievable.

I rolled her onto her back, pulling her panties down her legs.

She was beautiful, every part of her. EVERY single part, and I wanted all of it.

"I need you," she whispered, I leant down, meeting her eager mouth with mine. "I need you." I confessed.

**:) Oh, yeah. I did it ;)**

**Finally, right? I couldn't wait any longer. But this isn't their happy ever after. Believe me. They may not have one.**

**But I won't go into details. :)**

**Reviews are better than Jacob Black's 5 thousand dollars ;)**


	9. Panties on the Lamp

**It gets a tad smutty here, which is just awesome, but may be offensive, so be warned. :) Hope you likey ;)**

So, this was it.

"I need you." He whispered back breathlessly, throwing my panties across the room.

He rolled onto his back with me on top of him. I pulled his underwear down, I straddled him, fully naked. I grazed my finger tips over his chest, down his stomach muscles. His body was unbearably beautiful.

He made pale look beyond sexy.

With a hungry moan I leant back down to him, our mouths moving in synchronisation. Rolling me onto my back again, his hands moved down my body, to my hips, pulling my legs up.

He slid into me, our bodies rocked.

Raging breaths and loud moans sounded from us both.

I had peaked to the point of pure pleasure, my entire body tensing against his.

I shuddered, the urgency and sexual tension pent up between us had finally been relinquished. It was almost a relief, except I found I wanted it more, and not just now, but all the time.

He lay down on his back beside me, breathing heavily. I turned my face to his, he was already staring at me. They were filled with questions, as were mine. How did that just happen? Why hadn't we stopped it from happening?

Where did this put us? What was going to happen now?

Neither of us voiced our queries. Instead, his hand skimmed over my torso, hugging me close to him, his face buried in my hair. I bent my head to kiss him again.

I held his hand in both of mine against my stomach as we fell asleep. He pulled his hand back for a moment, draping a blanket over both of us before placing his hand back.

We slept together, forgetting the rest of the world, forgetting everything else in our lives—the mundane, the trivial, the fucked up and the depressing—we let go of those thoughts and memories as we held eachother.

Finally, I hadn't completely fucked everything. Just Edward.

~~~___~~~

I slept more peacefully than I had ever slept alone.

Or with anyone else, which hadn't been more than twice.

I sighed in content, opening my eyes to check the time on the alarm clock. It read in bold green digits, 11 pm. We had been sleeping for a near seven hours. I snuggled Edward's hands closer to my face, kissing his knuckles. His grip tightened. He leaned over my shoulder, resting his chin on my arm.

"Hey," he murmured, smiling crookedly.

I swear to god I could have jumped him again right there.

"Hey," I smiled back, giddily. "What's the time?" he asked through a yawn. "Eleven," I mumbled, closing my eyes.

"Ugh, I'm hungry," he muttered. I laughed, keeping my eyes closed.

"I should have expected that." He chuckled, grazing his lips over my temple, down my cheek bone, over my ear, across my jaw line. He stopped there, teasing me.

I turned my face to his, catching his lips between mine.

"You know what?" I murmured between kisses.

"Mmm?" he hummed, his hands snaking around my waist. "I'm hungry, too." I declared triumphantly, and a little smugly. I pulled away with a grin, dragging the blankets off the bed to swathe myself in. He was left with nothing. I giggled.

He rolled off the bed, standing up with his underwear in hand. After putting them on, he searched his draws for some jeans.

I smiled, shuffling over to him. I stared inside his mess of clothes and quickly snatched a t-shirt. I loved his t-shirts.

He snatched it back off me and pulled it over my head. I dropped the blankets at my feet. It was quite long on me, the navy blue fabric coming down to my mid-thigh.

He stared at my body for a moment before grinning.

"It looks good." He complimented, kissing my forehead.

His hand lingered in my hair, combing through it. "You have sex hair," he noted, grinning.

I rolled my eyes and glared at his perfect do. It was always the same, maybe thats how he kept it the same—sleeping.

I reached my hands to his hair, ruffling it. It messed up slightly, enough for me to laugh.

He rolled his eyes this time.

"You in the mood for Italian?" He asked excitedly.

"Oh my god, yes!" my eyes widened. "La Bella Italia!" we both cried. There was a moment of awkward silence. "Whoah, that was creepy." I commented.

"You go there, too?" he asked, disbelieving. I nodded vigorously, clasping my hands together.

"I love their ravioli," His eyes were hooded, he stared at me some more. "Oh, god, that's so sexy." He breathed. I perked an eyebrow, playing along.

"What?" I asked sarcastically. "That I fucking love their food? I could bathe in their creamy pasta." He ran a hand through his hair. "Stop it," he said, smiling. I grinned, running my index finger up his bare chest. I sucked in a breath, letting it slowly out through my teeth. I closed my eyes.

"Mmm, I just want to...dive naked into a pool of their gelato." I licked my lips and opened my eyes when I felt his finger tips moving ever so gently up my thigh. I smiled wickedly, stepping back then turning towards the door.

"Come on, like I said, I'm hungry!" I called, skipping to the kitchen.

He came sauntering out after me, grabbing his phone off the counter and pressing speed dial.

I had the restaurant on speed dial, too.

Weird.

"Hello? Yes, it's Detective Cullen, I'd like the usual." He said in that beautifully velvet voice of his. I wonder if he knew he could use that as a weapon. Maybe he did. Maybe he knew the effect he had on people.

I blushed, thinking about the effect he had on me this afternoon.

He chuckled softly into the receiver. "Yes, thank you so much. Have a good night." I rolled my eyes and stared at him. He was still smiling as he pressed the end call button, placing the phone in it's charger and turning back to me.

"What?" he asked wide-eyed and innocently.

I shook my head. "Nothing," I mouthed. He grinned, grabbing my hand. He pulled me to him then, wrapping his arms around my waist, kissing the top of my head.

I sighed, smiling victoriously as I slid my arms around his neck.

He was tall, I had to stretch to kiss him or he had to lean down.

I pressed my lips against his collar bone, his neck. He tilted my chin up to look in my eyes.

We stared for an immeasurable moment. Time stopped, our heart beat synchronized, I felt like we had joined...bonded somehow.

That was bound to happen after sleeping together, in the literal sense, but this was something different. I had already felt that bond before making love to him. Now, it felt stronger. I didn't know how or why.

I knew I had never felt it before with anyone else. I also knew that if I was as smart as I thought I was, I would hold onto it for dear life, never letting go. Because it would be a lifetime or more before I'd find it again—which would be an impossible feat anyway.

"I can't believe I've spent so long without you." He murmured.

~~~___~~~

The food came by twelve, we were the last customers of the evening, it was lucky they knew Edward there so well, for anyone else they would have told them where to stick their late night order.

I dozed off by about five in the morning, waking up again at nine. I had somehow teleported from the sofa to Edward's bed.

"Bella?" he whispered, his face close to mine.

My eyes fluttered open, meeting his shimmering green eyes. They dazzled me. I stared, blinking. "Hmm?" I yawned, stretching my limbs.

He stroked my hair back from my face as he knelt, fully clothes beside the bed.

"I have to go see the captain. I don't want to leave you here alone, so you need to get dressed." He said regrettably.

"Okay," I sighed, sitting up, still wearing his over-sized t-shirt. I sighed again, I didn't want to take it off. I stood up, yawning some more before standing in the middle of the room, glancing around, confused.

"Umm, where is my underwear?" I asked, scanning the room. I finally spotted them. "Ah!" I pointed, trotting over, unbalanced. They sat atop the lamp on Edward's chest of draws. I pulled them on and found my bra on the floor. I streaked to the living room where my jeans and top still were from yesterday.

I pulled them on.

Edward found me a hoodie of his that was too small for him. His shoulders were too broad to fit into it. It was still big on me, but better fitting than the shirt.

He took my hand in his, walking me to his car. It had stayed in the same place for almost two days.

Talking about the weather, avoiding the subject of his punishment, we rode to the station.

He held the glass door open for me. We stepped inside the heated foyer. It had tasteful blue carpeting, the walls a slightly darker shade, framed paintings adorned them. Arm chairs lined the walls, interrupted by small tables holding magazines and fake potted plants.

Edward nodded to the woman at the front desk, walking straight through the double doors off to the side, holding them open for me.

We walked down a long corridor which opened into a wider room, desks and chairs in rows, officers occupying some of them.

I averted my eyes, when the began gawking at me. I blushed uncontrollably, feeling uncomfortable.

"You'll have to wait here," Edward murmured, his brow furrowed. He motioned to a chair sitting outside a door labelled, Captain James Hargold. I nodded, taking a seat and watching him knock. "It's Cullen." He stated flatly. The door opened and he stepped in, closing it quietly behind him.

I sighed, slumping back in the chair.

I smiled slightly at a familiar face once they spotted me. Detective Whitlock approached me with a Styrofoam cup in his hand. He blew on the top, taking a sip. "Hello, Ms. Swan." He smiled warmly. "Hi, Detective Whitlock." His smile faded into an expression of modest concern.

"I heard about your apartment. That must have been quite a scare for you." He said softly, cocking his head to the side. I looked down at my feet. "Yeah," I shook my head. "It was awful. Luckily Edward was there. I'd have been dead otherwise." I said truthfully.

He nodded, his eyebrows raised. "That was extremely lucky." He murmured, taking another sip of his coffee. "I suppose you'll be staying in a hotel then?" he asked only merely curious. I shrugged, biting my lip. I could feel the blood rush to my cheeks. "Actually...Detective Cullen has kindly offered a spare room for me to stay in until I get back on my feet and this all blows over." He frowned, considering this and then shrugged. "It's good to know you're in good hands." He nodded, smiling once more.

I nodded back, smiling, too. "It is." I sighed. He glanced at his watch then. "Well, I should be getting back to work now then," He sighed. "Don't let me keep you." He grinned once more before turning down another corridor, out of sight.

I heard faint mutters from behind the door, the frosted glass wasn't clear enough to see through. I would have to try to guess what was happening by what I heard. Which wasn't much.

I wish I could be there for him. I wanted it more than anything. I needed to take the rap for this just as much as he did.

But, selflessly, he took it all on himself.

I groaned inwardly, I needed to make it up to him.

There was a muted thump. I jumped, staring at the door. I hope Edward didn't slam the Captain's head against a wall. He'd be in a lot more trouble then.

Then the mutterings started up again, Edward's voice raising and becoming more pronounced.

He burst out of the door then, grabbing my hand and hoisting me up from the seat.

"Cullen!" The captain roared. He turned around to glare at his boss—a tall, long blonde haired man (was everyone but Edward blonde here?) slightly muscular with darting brown eyes.

He must have only been in his late thirties.

"Stop right where you are," he ordered. Edward dropped my hand, his jaw clenched tight. I glanced worriedly between them. "What's going on?" I asked in a small voice.

"The _captain_," he snarled, staring pointedly at his boss before turning back to me. "Has taken me off the case. I'm not in charge of you anymore, another officer will take my place."

"_What?!" _screeched. "But he saved me more times than I care to mention, he's worked on this for months! You're just going to take him away from..." Me? "The case?" I asked, shaking my head.

"Ms. Swan, this is his punishment for his actions. This doesn't involve you or your personal opinion, as long as another officer is there with you, you have nothing to be concerned of." He dismissed me. I glared at him incredulously; utter fury burning behind my eyes, under my skin.

"Son of a—" Edward poked me in the ribs. I huffed, crossing my arms.

"You're on general duties today," The Captain informed him smugly. I wanted to beat his pretty blonde head in, creep.

Edward made a disgruntled face but nodded stiffly in agreement.

"Detective Whitlock, Detective Hale!" he shouted over our heads down the hall. The tall blonde woman from yesterday and Detective Whitlock came strolling towards us then. They nodded to the captain, ignoring Edward. Detective Whitlock winked at me. Edward frowned.

"Ms. Swan will be requiring a body guard. Someone to check on her throughout intervals during the day," Edward's face turned outraged. "Check up on her?" he asked through clenched teeth. "That's not good enough." He snapped. "Or if you have the time to stay with her throughout the day, that would be appreciated." The captain continued. Edward let out a huff of breath, marginally satisfied. "Detective Hale...?" She nodded, seeming bored. "I've got nothing else to do," she sighed. She may not have been a model, but she had the attitude and frame of mind to be one. Bitch.

Detective Whitlock spoke up then. "Maybe, I should do it...?" he offered. Him and the Captain shared a measured look. The captain's face began calculating. "You'll take shifts." He said, turning around and stalking back to his office. "Great," I muttered. "Baby Sitters."

Edward was concentrating on something very hard. "Cullen," Hale barked, snapping Edward out of his reverie. He looked up at her with an annoyed expression. "Shouldn't you be down in traffic affairs? I hear they've got some rookies who need a partner." She smiled smugly.

I could take her, she was only a little bit taller than me. I had the rage, though I didn't doubt she did either. Hmm, better stick to silent verbal beatings instead.

Edward grit his teeth and squared his shoulders. "Ms. Swan is staying at my house for the moment, she has nowhere else to go at this present time." I nodded in agreement. "Make sure you stay with her." He said low and seriously, staring both of them in the eyes.

They nodded in unison. "I'll see you later, Bell—Miss. Swan." He said, his face betraying no emotion. But I could see into his eyes. They were full or hurt and worry...and suspicion.

He was concerned about me living through the day without him.

He glanced back at me over his shoulder, smiling a crooked smile that didn't reach his eyes. I nodded slightly, letting him know I was thinking the same thing.

He was worried, so was I.

_I_ was concerned about living through the day without him.

**Reviews are better than skinny dipping in creamy pasta :D**


	10. Wounded

A/N: WOW. I haven't gotten on the Demon City wagon for quite some time now. It's been too long since I've updated and I thought it was time to do so again. I hope you guys don't hate me too much for holding out for more than a couple of months. There are worse right? LOL. Probably not. But at least you know I haven't abandoned this one.

Now, enjoy my pretties! And review!

I do not own Twilight. Although Copward is pretty much my bitch. ;)

* * *

I was so lost. What would I do while Edward was working—away from me? I finally tore my gaze from his after he disappeared down the hallway, rubbing the back of his head in frustration. I gulped loudly. I hadn't realised how imperative he was to me now. That when he left me alone, it hurt. A lot.

I was like a heroin addict—feeling physical pain whenever I was deprived, then greedily devouring more and more of him when I got my fix.

I stared back at the Captain. He stood stoically, his eyes transfixed on Detective Whitlock. They were having a silent conversation, which obviously didn't involve Detective Hale—who was showing as much irritation about their secrecy as I did. I folded my arms across my chest. They broke their gazes and Detective Whitlock assumed a casual stance, turning to me with a warm, polite—yet still professional—smile. Detective Hale tapped her foot on the ground and stared pointedly at the captain.

"Care to include me in your conversation?" she enquired, her eyebrows raising and her lips pursed.

The captain just shook his head and chuckled. He seemed so slimy—I felt sorry for Edward, having a boss like him... Then again, no-one could be worse than Jacob Black, I supposed. Shoving those thoughts aside, I still didn't like him.

"Calm yourself, detective, it's nothing of your concern—"

"But if it has something to do with the case...?" she defended, indicating the 'case' by motioning with her hand toward me—like I was an object.

I sighed. This was going to be a long day. I watched their bantering, Detective Hale growing more and more exasperated.

"It doesn't have anything to do with the case." He said sharply.

"Enough." He ordered.

I stared wide-eyed, because he looked angry enough to strike at her like a cobra.

_If you value your job, you will back the fuck down._

I told her silently with my eyes, she glanced at me, possibly noticing my warning. She turned back to her boss, sighing dejectedly and nodding.

"I'll take the first watch then," Detective Whitlock said suddenly, eagerly.

I frowned. I would have thought these people would be strongly opposed to baby-sitting, especially if it was a favour for Edward. I stared up at him, perplexed. Although he did seem a far cry from the captain—he also had a respectful air about him, he looked like he would bow down and kiss the captain's shoes.

Not like Edward, who hated being pushed around—he was a lone fighter...a vigilante who hated rules. He lived by his own authority. Which could be either construed as badass and hot...or irresponsible. Another sigh. I was already thinking about him obsessively. I snapped myself out of it, refusing to look incompetent. I _could _take care of myself. Shaking my head to dispel those thoughts, I glanced back at Detective Hale who looked defeated and irritated, even more so.

"Good, I expect you will take over Whitlock after his shift, Hale?" he asked, turning back to the blonde goddess.

She nodded once, stiffly. I shifted my weight, leaning it on my other foot. Detective Whitlock grinned then stared down at me. I felt oddly comfortable with him—it was just a certain vibe he radiated, like a glow. I smiled back timidly.

"I expect you to get back to your regular duties until your shift, Hale." The captain said, sounding bored now.

He turned around then and disappeared back into his office. My eyes fell to my shoes as I contemplated the next few hours with these people. I grimaced at the thought. They would be watching me like a hawk until Edward could come back to 'claim' me.

"Shall we?" Detective Whitlock motioned with his hand towards the exit, allowing me to go first.

I shrugged and obeyed—if I didn't cause trouble and kept quiet and polite, this would all be over sooner.

Besides, befriending more cops wouldn't be such a bad thing. I knew I had a few parking tickets I needed to explain...

"You can relax now, Bella," Detective Whitlock chuckled, misinterpreting my expression.

I smiled back weakly, scratching my head. He opened the glass door for me, his jacket opening slightly to reveal the leather straps over his shoulders and the gun it holstered. I peeked at it curiously, wondering if there was a standard issue—a type of weapon that all officers were required to have. His looked a little different to Edward's, although maybe that's another rebellious act Edward decided to take, purchasing a privately owned firearm and using it for work. To throw off the chains of systematic oppression...or whatever.

We walked out onto the street. The kind detective opened his car door for me. Standard issue vehicle of course. I noted the red and blue lights on the dash, the radio and the Perspex divider between the front and back seat for when they picked up a criminal.

He opened my door for me, smiling very chivalrously.

I smiled back, grateful.

"Why, thank you detective." I grinned up into his sapphire eyes.

They seemed to sparkle hypnotically. He laughed lightly.

"Please, Bella. We need not be so formal anymore. Call me Jasper."

I nodded 'okay' before slipping inside the car. It smelt of leather and coffee. I was wary of getting in here, worried it might smell like...pee, or blood...something along those lines that would link with felons the cringe-worthy task of arresting drug dealers, users, pushers, drunks, burglars, etcetera.

He briskly entered his side of the car, putting it into gear before peeling out of the parking spot. A car that had been stalking us quickly took our place. The ride back to Edward's was...uneventful. I was already pining after him only having just been rid of his presence mere minutes ago.

I couldn't even think straight!

He reminded me of some parasite—the good kind, of course—eating away at my brain. It was like he was always there, in every damn thought I had. It was enough to drive a girl insane, especially once she'd had a test drive of said merchandise. I licked my lips unconsciously, unaware of what I was doing.

Edward had taken me to such pleasurable heights, none that I had ever been to before. I didn't just want him, he was vital to me.

I sighed dejectedly at this little conundrum, drumming my fingers against the door as we sped through town. Jasper was an excellent driver, weaving through the cars expertly. I assumed that was another part of training they had to cover in the academy. In the event of a car pursuit, they'd obviously need to know how the fuck to handle a car.

Maybe I should just enrol for that part of the course. I needed to get some o' the skills down pat. I was a pretty helpless driver. I was so rough.

Rough. I wanted to be rough with Edward.

Damn it!

I rubbed my forehead with my fingers. If I didn't stop thinking about him or subjects that would inevitably lead to thinking about him, I would never retain enough sanity to live throughout the day.

We were back at Edward's apartment in no time. I walked up the stairs first, Jasper followed behind. I got to the door, unlocked it with the key Edward had given me and entered, holding the door for my new friend.

At least I didn't get Rosalie first up. I was in no mood for any bitch antics. By the end of her shift, I probably would have shoved her head in a blender, but then again, I'd feel sorry for the blender. I dropped the key on the coffee table in the living room before plopping down on the sofa—time for some quality re-runs.

I turned the T.V on, Jasper found a seat beside me, propping his feet up casually. I smiled, but kept my eyes on the screen, channel surfing.

It was an awkward silence. I found myself fidgeting being in his company, rather than being placated as I had originally thought I would be. He looked too comfortable. At least Rosalie would have taken this too seriously, scouting the fucking apartment for bugs—I glanced around nervously, noting what other activities Edward and I performed that could be caught on tape—and keeping watch at the windows for snipers or some sort of craziness.

At least then, I could actually feel comfortable, what with her mind busy with a task, not bothering to be nice or spend time with me. I kind of liked the solitude, much more than the weird silences between strangers where neither of them knew what to say or do.

I was hating every minute of this!

Why did Edward's douche wad of a Captain have to take him off of the damn case?!

Okay, so, maybe he hadn't acted completely professionally. I'll be the first to admit that besides him. But, people have been let off with a warning for much more. I ground my teeth together. The Captain probably had it out for Edward. To me, it seemed to purely stem from jealousy. James knew Edward was a better cop than he is or ever was; that must piss him off to no end. And this week I had come to realise Edward's cocky side. That would only add fuel to the already huge fucking fire that was their bitterness for one another. The Captain also knew, like I knew, but Edward didn't know, that he would soon and so easily make a better Captain than Hargold.

I sighed, absently picking at the arm of the sofa as I studiously ignored the black and white slasher film that was playing on cable. Jasper chuckled beside me, a low throaty sound. I glanced up at his amused expression, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

"What?" I asked defensively, curling in on myself.

He shook his head.

"Nothing. It's just...you don't look very comfortable. Am I making you a bit nervous, Bella?" he asked, smirking.

I quirked an eyebrow at his presumptuousness.

Was he insinuating that I was attracted to him? Or that the reason I felt uncomfortable is because it was of his presence and that I was thinking about him?

"Um, yeah...I'm uncomfortable—around strangers." I corrected, making sure to throw a bucket of cold water over that fire before he got too cocky about himself.

He smiled warmly, losing the smugness.

I sighed.

"I'm sorry." I apologised sincerely.

"I can't...I mean, I know...uh..." I struggled to spit out a sentence.

I heaved out a deep breath, shifting in my seat. I crossed my legs under me and faced him, there was a cushion between us so it didn't feel too intimate.

"I miss him." I blurted out, my cheeks growing hotter.

Jasper's eyebrows shot up to his hairline and I wished I hadn't confessed.

"Well," he said; contemplative.

He cocked his head to the side, staring past my shoulder.

"I'm sorry he got taken away from the case. But, Cullen can be a little too...exuberant. He...doesn't know where the line is sometimes, it blurs in his eyes. And he doesn't understand why people—cops—can't just cross that line without thinking." He explained, watching me.

I frowned.

"So, the line was me?" I asked, pondering, if not slightly offended.

He opened his mouth to say something...but what? Because that was exactly what he meant. It may have been written on paper that Edward was suspended from this investigation because of not properly informing his superiors over what was happening—but really it was because of his infatuation with me. One that everyone he worked with seemed to know all about now.

I scrunched my face up.

"So, everyone knows then?" I asked, a small glimmer of hope present that I still had some privacy.

He shook his head, trying to keep from smiling.

"Argh!" I grumbled, my face falling into my hands.

Jasper's finger encountered my chin, lifting it up gently. I frowned slightly but didn't swat his hand away, no matter how awkward the gesture was. His eyes were soft with concern, concealing a hidden emotion behind them.

What was he sorry that my incredibly inappropriate, barely even two day old romance was public?

My hands fidgeted, linking together and wringing against each other as he still held my chin in his hand.

"Don't be upset, Bella. It doesn't matter." He reassured me.

I rolled my eyes, sceptical.

"It's okay, Detective—" he eyed me pointedly. "Jasper," I corrected myself.

"I'm not upset." I said, smiling tightly and trying to manoeuvre out of his grasp. He seemed to notice my unease with the contact, slowly lowering his hand back to his side. I smiled again and decided to avoid anymore weird happenings like that one. I went to bed.

***

Of course I didn't sleep.

It was too early in the day, obviously. My body thought it was peculiar to be resting at this time. It just wouldn't let me slip into a doze that easily. I also wasn't that tired...physically. Mentally was another story.

As I lay under the covers—still unwashed, still smelling potently of Edward and our...together-ness—I stared at the ceiling, pondering over everything that happened over the past couple of days.

I found myself missing Alice—fiercely. She had been so important to me. A sister, really, more than just a friend, or even best friend. If it weren't for the perceptible differences in our features, anyone would think we were of a blood relation. Even with our separate appearances, some people mistook us for cousins. We had been so close...

Tears streaked down my face. I hugged one of Edward's pillows closer to my face, inhaling the smell—yeah, maybe it was creepy but it helped calm me down a little.

In spite of the loss of Alice, there was also the gain of something else—it pained me to even admit it, but it was definitely more strong and profound—with Edward.

Or, maybe it wasn't that it was stronger, just different.

Different because Alice was family already, she belonged with me, as a friendly companion—she was kind and selfless, putting me first all the time even when I didn't deserve it. Alice would push me to strive, and be there if I failed. Or kick my ass for giving up.

Edward wasn't like that. I had yet to find out what he was like, only having known him for such a short time.

I was going to need to talk to him about everything. Where did we both stand? When all this was finished—would we stay in contact? My chest tightened as I put it all into perspective. Nothing was ever concrete, everything was ephemeral, temporary. Something, like a relationship—I wasn't even sure if we were in one at all—was placed on such a precarious precipice, one wrong move and it could all slide down hill in a spectacular 'shit-hitting-the-fan' type fiasco. A lover's quarrel that would only end in heart break. Of course, then there was the consideration as to what we should label what Edward and I shared. It was more than just fucking—to me. To him? Well, I couldn't read his mind—how could I be sure it wasn't simply carnal pleasure that he sought from me, a willing recipient?

I had no fucking idea. That just added an extra ten pounds of angst-ridden thought onto my mind in addition to my already half insane internal banter. I sighed, rolling over to my side and staring at the dark drapes that covered the sunlit windows. Dust motes floated in the air, stirring as I moved and breathed.

I distantly wondered what Jasper was doing—if he was bored out of his mind...watching T.V. without me, and having a wonderful time, or if he just left after seeing no threat. He could be doing anything. How that must be liberating for him. I was couped up in here, nobody to talk to—well nobody I wanted to talk to—nothing to do, really. I sat up, feeling stir crazy and restless. I scanned over the room to find something that could entertain me for the rest of the day until Edward came home...

A book case!

I excitedly leapt off the bed towards the small wooden structure at the far right corner of the room. It was clean but definitely not neat. The books were piled haphazardly on top of each other, some stuffed in crannies so everything would fit. He certainly didn't take proper care of his literature.

My eyes grazed lazily over the titles. He read mostly non-fiction, not to my surprise. True stories of crime. Even the fiction were crime novels. I rolled my eyes. If he worked in such a profession, why would you want to come home and read about it? Wouldn't you want to escape? Just for a little bit? But that was Edward, I supposed. It looked like if he was involved in something, it consumed him entirely with no room for a side habit or other interest.

So, I supposed that could have been another explanation as to why he hadn't acquired a girlfriend...

He couldn't share himself among his career _and_ a personal life over that. However I wasn't one to talk. I criticise him for being unable to interact or create relationships with people, yet hadn't I been dodging men for years?

Well, until now...

There was another hard backed book in there, the embroidery, the texture and the size told me it was not an actual book...but a photo album.

I bit my lip—this should be interesting if not utterly hilarious. It would also help the time go by.

I grabbed it from the shelf and propped my back up against the head board, settling in.

I opened the front page and smiled. There was a picture of a woman, young-ish, probably around twenty-five years old, beautiful, standing next to a man—tall, handsome and blonde around the same age. They were crouching behind a bronze-haired little boy. Now, that _had_ to be Edward.

He would have been around five years old.

He was gorgeous, even as a child. His green eyes bored through the picture and straight into my soul. He was sat atop a little red wooden stool with his parents holding him close, smiling delightedly up at the camera. By the looks of it, they were in their back yard, on the grass. There were toys strewn over the ground, a BBQ area and a fence in the background.

Picture perfect.

I turned the page and almost died.

I snorted then quickly covered my mouth with my hand to smother the sounds. I squeezed my eyes shut but couldn't help peeking at the picture again.

Edward. About sixteen years of age. Halloween by the looks of that costume.

I wonder if he chose that one and wore it willingly or if he was forced by people unknown.

A naughty nurse costume? I was tearing up, it was just too much. He even had the hat with the little red cross on it. The picture wasn't even that funny—just the thought of Edward like that, so different, carefree, in another element.

It was adorable and like I had hoped, hilarious. Looking through the photos of Edward's past sure did clear my mind of all the bullshit. I wonder why he didn't have these in frames over his house? Some of them were completely decent, wonderful photos of his family, his parents.

In the short space I had known Edward, he seemed like the family type. Despite his antisocial behaviour and his demeanour, he came across as a very loyal person. And wouldn't that denote his family, too?

So, why keep such happy memories locked away?

I managed to occupy myself with the album for more than a few hours.

Time got away from me, but I was glad it did.

I decided to check on Jasper to see if he was still awake being stuck here without much to entertain him. I closed the book and set it on the night stand.

Out in the hallway, I could hear his gentle snoring. I crept backwards, moving stealthily into the kitchen. My stomach growled impatiently, knowing what I was up to. I rummaged around in the refrigerator for something decent.

Milk, water, energy drinks...a lettuce...

Is that _it?_

Looks like I'll need to restock if I'm going to be staying here any longer.

I shut the door of the fridge, frustrated with the lack of choice and made my way over to the cupboards.

There was pasta, pasta sauce...two minute noodles, canned fruit, canned everything...cereal.

I sighed, looking at my options.

"Eh, fuck it." I mumbled, grabbing the _Count Chocula_ from the top shelf.

I hope Edward won't mind me eating him out of house and home. But by the looks of it, he won't even notice it's gone. I doubt he eats much from his own home, ordering everything from the Italian place.

My mouth watered, even though it was just mere cereal. I was starving actually, It was around three o'clock in the afternoon—Edward would be home soon. Maybe I could wake Jasper up? I spooned a mouthful of _Count Chocula_ and shovelled it in hungrily, milk dribbled down my chin.

Man, what kind of Neanderthal was I?

_Not a very neat one._

I nodded to myself, grabbing a napkin from the counter.

I headed back out into the living room. I took another bite and chewed ceremoniously, moaning at the taste of such a lacklustre food—but still savouring it. I placed the bowl down on the coffee table, knowing my history of bowls and floors.

I swallowed the rest of my mouthful, assuming that Detective Whitlock wouldn't be particularly pleased with me if I spat soggy cereal all over his unsuspecting face. I'd probably get some on his suit too, and I bet he wouldn't be too happy about that, either.

Without being too rough, I nudged him in the shoulder—he was still sitting up, his head lolled to the side and his face slack. I leaned a little closer, poking my fingers against his rising and falling chest.

He didn't budge.

I sighed and decided it was time to bring out the big guns.

It would be rude not to ask him if he was hungry. I'd be happy to make some coffee for him if he was this exhausted.

Not to mention, he had been kind enough to take the first boring shift of the day.

I grabbed both of his shoulders, leaning down to get into his face.

"Jasper!" I hissed, whilst simultaneously shaking him.

"Jasp—" His lips pressed to mine, my eyes bulged out and my heart rate picked up.

I gasped, pushing against his chest to escape; his response was to shove me backwards.

The piercing sound of shattering glass erupted around me.

The pain came just a split-second after that. He had accidentally shoved me out of surprise, landing me back-first into the glass table.

"Ow!" I cried, sobbing in pain.

I couldn't feel much else other than a searing sensation up the backs of my arms and the back of my knees and thighs.

I felt like I had been put through a paper shredder.

"Shit!" Jasper exclaimed, leaning down to pick me up from the puncturing shards.

"I am _so_ sorry, Bella! Fuck!" he cried out, remorse clear in his eyes.

I fought back more sobs as he gingerly grasped my shoulders to sit me up so he could wrap his arms around me to get away from the glass pile underneath me.

He managed, only just.

He tore his jacket off after sitting me on the edge of the sofa. My hand clutched the arm rest, feeling very faint. Was I losing blood?

That was when we heard approaching footsteps. Edward was home—and it was either great timing, or the worst possible timing. I wonder who would get into more trouble.

He opened the door. I couldn't see him because my back was to him, but I could hear everything.

His gasp of shock and then his purposeful footsteps as he came to me.

"What the fuck happened?" he demanded.

Jasper looked so guilty.

"I..." he shook his head, trying to find the words.

"It was an accident," I sobbed out, my voice strained.

"I tripped and fell—" I gasped as Edward touched me.

"Ow!" I winced. I felt a sharp sting shoot through my back, close to my spine, but far enough away that I knew I shouldn't be worried about being paralysed.

"You have a hug fucking piece of glass in your back," Edward informed me, his voice not hiding his horror.

"Oh, god," I sucked in a shuddering breath. It hurt quite a bit, although I couldn't really feel the glass shard at the moment, the shock of it all and the small but painful scrapes and abrasions all over my arms and legs gave me something to cry about.

"You couldn't even manage to take care of her for _one_ day!" he barked at Jasper.

Jasper's jaw tensed.

"She. Fell." He said through clenched teeth.

He couldn't really use that as a defence. It was lie.

One that I made up to save his Southern ass.

He could at least say sorry...again.

Edward stood up woodenly, his fists clenching angrily. I was hunched over slightly, my hands on my knees. I was rocking a little, but careful not to disturb the glass protruding from my skin. I didn't want it to tear up completely and do more unnecessary damage.

"You could have caught her," he growled.

I groaned, scrunching my face up. My head felt like it was swimming. I could feel a warm sensation on my back...blood probably.

If Edward had touched the wound then that may have made it worse. I was bleeding and growing faint.

"Bella?" Edward said, moving towards me again.

I was breathing heavily, trying not to think too much about the blood...or lack thereof.

I swallowed loudly.

"Hospital," I managed to whimper.


End file.
